


The Best Laid Plans

by Arcawolf



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Child Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Gen, This is why you don't leave Xehanort alone with children, Xehanort is an arse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-21 08:03:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/897894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcawolf/pseuds/Arcawolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moments before his defeat at Aqua's hands, Xehanort sends his dark guardian back in time to warn his past self. Now, in the past, the newly enlightened Xehanort is stuck with the dilemma of how to neutralize Aqua's potential threat. Thankfully, he has the perfect solution. Aqua can't fight against him if she is fighting for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Before the Storm

Xehanort scowled. Every scholar, every Master and scroll had told him the exact same thing: time travel was impossible. And yet, that had definitely been his dark guardian, and yet not his at the same time.

The guardian had been in terrible shape: on the ground, its form looking as though it would collapse with a single touch. It was not long before the creature’s life had been extinguished completely. However, it had left Xehanort with a single word.

Aqua.

He was no fool. He knew exactly what that meant. Somewhere, years in the future, he had failed. And without doubt, it had been because of this girl. Fortunately, Xehanort already knew where to find her. She, along with the boy, Terra, was one of Eraqus’ young apprentices. It would be pathetically easy to reach her; all he needed to do was send his old friend a letter.

However, the same couldn’t be said for actually taking _care_ of the problem.

All keyblades had a unique feel, and a Master with many years of experience could recognize the work of one over another. Just as Xehanort would recognize Eraqus’ handiwork, Eraqus would recognize his. If he killed or disabled Aqua, Eraqus would know. That, sadly, due to Terra’s –potentially his future host - proximity with the man and Eraqus’ own impressive strength, was something Xehanort could not afford.

So, instead, Xehanort planned and waited.

But mostly, he waited.

* * *

The bridge with Eraqus was one that had long since burned, so declared the scars across his former friend’s face. But if there was one flaw that Eraqus had, it was that he was blind, as naïve as a child. In Eraqus’ world, so long as one followed the light, everything was perfect; the villain would be vanquished, all the loose ends would be tied up, and everyone would get their happy endings. How childish Eraqus was, to believe that the world could be so neatly divided into good and bad. Through Eraqus’ eyes, Xehanort knew that there was only black and white, not the spectrum of grey that Xehanort himself saw.

So, when the opportunity to make amends came, he took it. It wouldn’t be much harder said than done.

It was the death of old Master Roku which opened that door. Xehanort had never been close to the man – had hardly known him, in fact – but showed up at the funeral with faked sorrow, nonetheless. For the most part, he tried to ignore the others, only speaking when spoken to. Making his way to the forefront of the grievers, he stood at the edge of the old man’s tomb, his head bowed and eyes closed as he murmured silent, and carefully constructed, prayers. Surely, wherever he was currently hiding, Eraqus would see him. Xehanort was sure that had he looked, he would have found Eraqus, but he must not appear desperate.

Thus, when the service was over, Xehanort made his way through the crowd, as if intent on leaving.

It was not long before a familiar person stepped into his path.

“I am surprised to see you here,” Eraqus said.

Xehanort suppressed a smirk. “Are you?” he asked. “Should we all not pay our respects to a good man?”

Eraqus’ brow creased as he pondered Xehanort’s statement. “Forgive me, but I did not think you cared.”

How true it was! Xehanort’s low chuckle was genuine. “I have been many things, my friend, but never evil. Selfish, stubborn, misguided and _mistaken_ , perhaps, but never evil.”

Eraqus nodded, still looking at him suspiciously. “All traits that invite disaster.”

“So, I have learned.” Xehanort closed his eyes, letting his chin rise as if he was reaching some great revelation. “You need not lecture me, my friend. The lessons I have learned are harsher than any words.”

There it was: that chink in Eraqus’ armour that Xehanort had been waiting for. Eraqus’ face softened, the corners of his lips rising from their frown into a straight line. The eyes blinked once, then widened, studying their former comrade with curiosity instead of wariness.

“I am sorry to hear that you have been through such troubles,” Eraqus said.

“Perhaps, it was for the best.” It was hard, but Xehanort managed to make his voice soft and pained. “There are lessons that we all must learn.”

Seeing that Eraqus had been rendered speechless, Xehanort chose then to make his exit. Best to leave the other with wandering thoughts that would keep him awake at night. However, once again, Eraqus stopped him, this time with a quick shout of his name.

“Why is it,” Eraqus asked, “that you have never come to honour our friends’ names before?”

“I have always come. It is just,” he quickly turned his immediate smirk into a sad smile, “that because of my past, I have lost contact with most, and so have never heard of their passing until long after the service.”

* * *

Xehanort stared blankly at his letter. That eccentric wizard Merlin, whom Xehanort had tried to best to avoid even before he let in the darkness, had invited him to a gathering of the old Masters. No doubt, Eraqus had played a role in this. Xehanort shuddered as he pictured what such an event would be like. It would be rife with artificial pleasantness, as people struggled to be on their best behaviour and pretend that they did not hate the others. It was an event that he would greatly prefer to avoid.

But everyone had to make sacrifices for the greater good.

He arrived in a black cloak, face hidden underneath the thick hood as to make a grand entrance. He wanted Eraqus to see him as quickly as possible so that he could leave as quickly as possible. Conversation stilled as he entered the wizard’s hut, only to start up again in low whispers after Xehanort reached up and pulled down his hood. Naturally, Eraqus saw it fit to approach him. However, to Xehanort’s disgust, Yen Sid followed. Even more than Merlin, Xehanort hated the man. Although Yen Sid, unlike Eraqus, appeared to notice the grey between the dark and light, he seldom admitted it. Instead, the former keyblade Master used his gift to pry into the hearts of others.

If anyone would predict his plans, it would be Yen Sid.

“Greetings, Master Xehanort,” Yen Sid said in that guise of being an ally. “It has been a long time.”

“So, it has,” Xehanort agreed, shaking the other’s hand. For his age, Yen Sid’s handshake was surprisingly firm, and Xehanort wondered if the old wizard even knew how tense he was.

Surely, Yen Sid was more than a bit suspicious, which meant that Xehanort needed to direct attention away from himself. Easy. It just happened to be that he needed to bond with Eraqus again –and what better way than to discuss Eraqus’ favourite subject? A simple “How are your apprentices?”, and then he stood back and let Eraqus blather on. A few times, Yen Sid tried to redirect the conversation back towards Xehanort and his doings, but Xehanort had been playing this game longer. It was easy to keep Eraqus talking.

“Terra,” Eraqus was saying, “at his age, is already as strong as an ox. He’ll grow up with enough raw power to rival Chernabog someday. Aqua, well, she lacks that, but I suspect she’ll take after you, Yen Sid.”

“Indeed,” the wizard said, “that is something I can easily foresee. Might I ask, Xehanort, why the sudden interest?”

Ah, by pure mistake, Yen Sid had given him a fantastic opening. Xehanort said, “So many of our friends have passed on recently, and I cannot help but think that one day, it will be myself lying in a coffin. I am old, and it is time that I consider passing my knowledge onto the next generation.”

Yen Sid’s eyebrows rose, but Eraqus looked delighted. “You seek an apprentice then? I can assist you in finding one, should you need help.”

_Yes, you can certainly help_. Because unbeknownst to Eraqus, he already had one in mind. “I would be . . . grateful for your assistance.”

And Yen Sid just had to stick his massive nose in. “Eraqus, you have two apprentices to take care of, while I have only one. Allow me to assist Xehanort.”

“With all due respect . . .” No, he was not imaging the underlying snarl. Xehanort cleared his throat, softening his tone, before starting again. “Eraqus and I have a long history; he knows me best and would best be able to say what apprentice would suit my tastes.”

“It is no trouble,” Eraqus said. “Terra and Aqua don’t take up too much of my time.”

“Well, if you insist . . .”

* * *

She was unimpressive. Though Xehanort had known that she couldn’t be older than twelve, he had still expected something more, to see a trace of the vicious warrior that in a different future, had defeated him. Instead, he found a tiny girl with wide blue eyes too big for her face, a girl who was dwarfed by the bulk of the other apprentice that stood protectively in front of her. Neither of the children looked pleased to meet him.

As usual, Eraqus was blind to their unease. “Terra, Aqua, this is my old friend, Master Xehanort.”

“You . . . you trained with him?” Aqua squeaked.

“Yeah, he used darkness, right?” Terra added.

So, Eraqus had been spreading his hatred of the darkness to his apprentices. Well, Xehanort hadn’t expected anything else. But despite the fact that Eraqus’ apprentices seemed to be absorbing that lesson, Xehanort could still sense the darkness surrounding Terra. Whether he knew it or not, that boy’s heart held a healthy amount of darkness; he would make an excellent host.

“Yes, Terra,” Eraqus said, “but he has seen the errors of his ways.”

“Why?”

While Eraqus berated Terra for his rudeness, Xehanort turned his head away, hiding his sneer. This was only reminding him why he hated kids: they were much more in tune with their instincts. Adults, he could fool, as they always tried to base their opinion of him on actual interaction, not an unfounded doubt. Children, on the other hand, would shun someone if their instincts told them to do so.

And a child’s instincts always told them to stay away from him.

“Master Xehanort will be staying here for a while to watch you train,” Eraqus said. “I expect you to treat him the same way you would treat me.”

“Yes, Master,” chimed the two apprentices. So, they were obedient if nothing else.

That made his job that much easier.

* * *

For the next hour, he lured Eraqus into a reminiscence of their own training. It was like old times as they relived old stories and laughed together, only Xehanort’s laughs were faked. Though a tempting sereneness offered to overcome him, he resisted. He had to keep sharp.

The two young apprentices continued to spar. Even at this age, the difference between their skills and strategies was apparent. Terra used his size and strength, always striving to close the distance and overwhelm Aqua with powerful blows. Aqua was the opposite, dancing away and bombarding her opponent with quick spells. Through it all, there was the sound of childish laughter.

His yellow eyes narrowed. They didn’t know, but every move they made was playing right into his hands.

He continued to relate old times to Eraqus, but with another goal in mind. The stories focused less on their adventures and more on them. He and Eraqus, even ignoring their views on light and darkness, had always been different.  He outlined that carefully, stressing how much Terra seemed to be like his Master.

Xehanort was sure to mention how much Aqua was like _him_.

The last part caught Eraqus by surprise.  “Aqua’s heart is filled with light,” he said, as if that answered everything.

 “I was only referring to her gift for magic,” Xehanort said soothingly. “When it came to us, I was always the best at that.”

 “Yes, you were.” Eraqus wasn’t looking at him, instead watching his apprentices with a frown.

 “Do not worry,” Xehanort said, patting Eraqus on the shoulder as if in reassurance, “she will grow into her gift. If her talents surpass yours, then she will teach herself and find her way. I did.”

He left Eraqus there, watching his apprentices, the frown growing ever more pronounced. Xehanort smirked. Things were going _exactly_ how he wanted them to go.

* * *

Xehanort lingered at the table, waiting for Terra to take off and leave. The four of them were, finishing the last of their meals. Eraqus was perfectly at ease, sipping his tea calmly; his apprentices were less so. Aqua ate quickly and avoided everyone’s eyes. Terra did the opposite, instead picking at his food with a scowl. Xehanort could tell by the muted fear in their eyes that it was more than a nagging doubt that drove them now. They must have sensed his gaze upon him while they trained, and were reacting accordingly. It was only fortunate that the children had no idea what he wanted with them, or else things would have been much, much worse.

Unfortunately, it appeared that because of this fear, Terra was unwilling to leave his friend.

It was then that, once again, Eraqus came to his rescue. He placed his cup of tea back down on the table, and wiped his mouth with a napkin before saying, “Terra, I believe it is your turn to wash the dishes.”

Terra shrugged, and stood. He beckoned Aqua with a look, and she began to get up.

Unacceptable. “You have a chore too, Aqua?” Xehanort said, pointing out her planned departure to her Master.

He knew even before he asked that she didn’t. Now, not only her flinch, but Eraqus’ words proved him correct. “No, she hasn’t. Aqua, where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” she said quietly, staring at her feet.

Eraqus turned a critical eye on Terra. “Terra, how many times must I tell you: when it is your turn to wash the dishes, then it is your job to wash them. You are not to persuade Aqua to help.”

“It’s okay, Master,” Aqua said quickly, “I don’t mind . . .”

Eraqus held a hand up, silencing her. “I will hear no more of this. Terra?”

Xehanort imagined that Terra didn’t usually have that furious of an expression. Terra cast one last look at him, then at Aqua, before slinking off to do his Master’s bidding.

It was all too easy to get rid of Eraqus. Eraqus did seem to have some issues with leaving his former friend alone with his apprentice, but Xehanort chalked that down to general protectiveness, and nothing aimed directly at him. After a few suggestions that Terra may mishandle some of the sharper objects and that the boy seemed rather upset about something, Eraqus left to check on Terra.

That left Xehanort and her and her.

Now that there was no one to stand between them, Aqua seemed paralyzed. Her blue eyes were fixed upon him, though she quickly looked away when he met her stare. Judging by her fidgeting and wandering eyes, she wanted to get up and run. However, Eraqus had told her to keep him company, and Aqua was nothing if not obedient.

Xehanort sighed. This would not do. He needed to forge a bond with her, or at least make her comfortable enough to speak so that Eraqus _thought_ they had a bond. He held no illusions that Aqua would want to be around him, or that Terra would let her. For such a young boy, he was shockingly astute at picking out threats.

“Eraqus has informed me that you are gifted in magic,” Xehanort said, watching her closely.

Aqua shrugged, playing with the corner of her napkin.

Xehanort leaned forwards, weaving his fingers together as his elbows rested on the table. Getting her to speak would not be much of a problem. She was terrified of him, yes, but there was another emotion in children that was as powerful as fear.

Curiosity.

“Magic is truly fascinating,” he said. “There are so many things you can do with it; but you only know the basics, correct?”

Aqua nodded, still not looking at him.

“Then, can you do . . . this?”

A combination of a simple Fire and Aero spell turned his fork into a glowing, spinning orb that floated above his palm. Aqua blinked, zeroing in on the red ball.

“Impressive, yes?” Xehanort drawled. “Such a magnificent thing, magic is.”

“How did you do that?” Aqua asked.

He dropped his voice to a whisper. “If you want, I can show you.”

* * *

Seated on the ground, the two children hid from the prying eyes of the two Masters in their secret fort – or in other words, the empty supply closet underneath the stairs. There was no natural light that found its way into this small place, but the red light created from Aqua’s spells was enough for them to see.

“See, Terra?” Aqua said as the glowing ball rotated slowly above her hand. “Fire melts the fork and makes it glow, and Aero makes it float.”

Terra muttered the two spells under his breath, nearly choking from the tension in his neck as he tried to command his spells to copy Aqua. Instead, he conjured the two spells separately, scorching the ground beneath him black and flinging the unaltered fork through the air.

“It’s not working!” Terra said, leaning back against the wall. “This is stupid.”

“You just have to practice,” Aqua said.

“No,” he huffed. “I can’t do it.”

Aqua sighed, but took back the rest of the forks. “Master will be mad when he sees that some are missing . . .”

Terra shrugged. “It’s just a couple of forks, he won’t care. Besides, you can blame it on Xehanort.”

Aqua bit her lip at the mention of his name, and drew her knees in close to her chest. In response, a shudder went up Terra’s spine, as if hundreds of spiders were crawling up his back. Xehanort was creepy, both of them agreed on that. And Terra hated that he had been forced to leave Aqua with him; he hated that the Master had seen it fit to leave them alone together.

He chewed on the inside of his cheeks, biting back a snarl as not to freak Aqua out more. After leaving Aqua alone with that old man, Eraqus had asked Terra what was wrong – and then scolded him when Terra admitted the truth! Well, what had the Master wanted him to say? Better yet, why couldn’t the Master see it? There was something . . . _wrong_ about the way Xehanort looked at him and Aqua. They knew it, and the Master refused to believe them.

_He’ll be gone soon_ , Terra reassured himself, _and then things will be back to normal._

“Aqua,” he said quietly, “what happened when you two were alone?”

“He showed me how to cast that spell. That’s it.”

The light from the Fire spell was dimming, and in the red glow, he could only make out the outline of her face. His teeth ground together as he cursed the spell for dying now; he wanted to be able to see every detail of her face, so that he could tell if she was lying.

“That’s all?” he asked. At her nod, he said, more to himself, “Okay, that’s good. That’s okay.”

The door suddenly swung open and they were blinded by light. Aqua shrieked, and Terra tried to lunge at the intruder, only to trip over his feet and fall flat on his face. Cowed and embarrassed, the two children looked up at the two Masters.

“Ah, so this is where you have gone off to.” To Xehanort, Eraqus said nonchalantly, “It’s their secret hideaway.”

“Not much of a secret,” Xehanort observed.

Dusting off his pants, Terra got to his feet, and Aqua took her place beside him. They stood before their Master, hands clasped behind their backs in feigned innocence.

Eraqus sniffed. “Terra, Aqua, what is that smell?”

Terra blanched, realizing that the storage closet now smelt like molten metal. To his surprise though, Xehanort chuckled, and said, “It appears Aqua was practicing that new spell I taught her.”

“New spell? Oh. What about you, Terra?” Eraqus asked, knowing fully well that Aqua would have tried to teach him.

“I can’t get the spells to combine,” Terra said. “But I can do the two parts separately.”

“Combining spells?” Eraqus looked sideways at his fellow Master. “You taught her how to combine spells?”

“It was a simple combination, and might I say, she figured it out just like that.” Xehanort accentuated that last word with a snap of his fingers.  “You have a true prodigy on your hands, Eraqus.”

As Xehanort chuckled and turned to leave, Terra couldn’t help but feel that something had been snatched away from under his nose.

* * *

Although Terra did his best, somehow, Aqua and Xehanort kept winding up alone together. By the fifth time Eraqus sent him away on some errand, Terra was beginning to suspect that his Master was doing this on purpose; he thought, impossibly, that for some reason, Eraqus was actually encouraging this. According to Aqua, Xehanort wasn’t doing anything bad, and she didn’t seem to be lying. But Terra still didn’t trust him; he wasn’t _right_. He was dangerous. He knew it, and Aqua knew it

Or at least, she had.

Her constant conversations with him were wearing her down. It started with her making comments that Xehanort was “Really good at magic”. Then it escalated to Aqua vocally doubting her suspicions, and trying to push Terra to do the same.

He refused every time. He was a bad guy, he would tell her, Eraqus just couldn’t see it. In fact, rather than making him reconsider, Aqua’s uncertainty convinced him further that Xehanort couldn’t be trusted.

But it didn’t matter how certain he was, because there was nothing he could do.

He was forced to watch, hands shaking, as Aqua was pushed towards Xehanort time and time again. He had to swallow down his hate as he read the alarm on Aqua’s face after Xehanort stared a little too much, spoke a little too intensely. He had to pretend, for the sake of not being grounded and restricted to his room, that there was absolutely nothing wrong with this situation. And he hated it.

Still, Terra was convinced that everything would be okay when Xehanort left. But then, during one of their magic training sessions, Aqua asked Xehanort – not the Master – for advice. When he asked her why, Aqua simply said that even Eraqus admitted that Xehanort was the best at magic, so she asked him for help. It made sense, so Terra didn’t think much of it.

The same couldn’t be said for the Master. He had stared at Aqua with the most conflicted and sad expression.

And then Terra knew that things would only get worse.

* * *

It came to a head five days later.

Terra was creeping past the Master’s office, trying to figure out where Aqua had gone off to. Hopefully, with Eraqus occupied by Yen Sid’s visit, he would be able to stick to her side like glue. He paused at the office’s open door, wondering if he could dive and roll past the doorway fast enough that he wouldn’t be spotted.

It was there, pondering that idea, where he heard them.

Eraqus was saying, “. . . he and Aqua seem to be getting along splendidly. It’s quite a shock, I must say, but they do have much in common.”

Terra wanted to laugh, and he also wanted to barge in and scream at his Master for being so blind. No, they were _not_ getting along splendidly; Aqua was freaked out by Xehanort!

“If skill in magic is all that they share, then that would be like saying that Xehanort and I are alike.” Those were Yen Sid’s words, and Terra immediately decided that he liked him.

Eraqus sighed. Terra heard the floor creak as he moved. “Why do you insist on keeping such a close watch on Xehanort? He has renounced the darkness, and there is nothing wrong with seeking a pupil to train.”

“But is that all Xehanort wants?” Yen Sid asked.

“What else could he do with an apprentice?”

It appeared Yen Sid had nothing to say to that, for Terra heard him grunt. His steps echoed as he walked across the wooden floor. “Do you honestly want to go through with this?”

“What I want doesn’t matter,” Eraqus said. “I have to do what’s best for my students.”

Terra grinned. Did that mean that the Master was finally kicking out Xehanort? It was about time! Maybe he and Aqua could sneak into the kitchen tonight and they could celebrate.

But with one sentence, his world was crushed.

“Xehanort will be a better teacher for Aqua then I can be.”

“ _No_!” Terra burst into the room, chest heaving.

“Terra?” the Master sounded surprised, but Yen Sid did not startle.

“You can’t send Aqua away with him!” Terra cried. “You can’t!”

As Eraqus stared, stunned, Yen Sid gave Terra a tiny nod. He swept out of the room, closing it behind so that Master and apprentice could have some privacy.

“I won’t let you,” Terra muttered.

Eraqus sighed. He walked over to his student, and then kneeled down, so that they were at eye-level. One hand found its way to Terra’s shoulder, placing a comforting pressure there. “I know she’s your friend, Terra,” he said, “but we have to do what’s best for her. I can’t offer her the teaching she needs. She needs to go.”

“Not with him!” Terra begged. “Send her away with Master Yen Sid, but not him!”

“Master Yen Sid already has an apprentice, and no wish to take on another. Terra, Master Xehanort is the best option for her.”

“Aqua hates him!” he spat. “Why can’t you see that?”

Eraqus closed his eyes briefly, and his lips moved. Loudly, he said, “That is enough, Terra. This is not your decision to make."

The snarl that crossed his face was inhuman. “So, you’re just going to send my best friend away?”

“Terra . . .”

“No!” He grabbed Eraqus’ arm and threw it away from him. “I’m not going to let you!”

He ran out of the room, ignoring Eraqus’ shouts.

He had to find her, now.

* * *

They didn’t get far. Neither of them knew how to summon their gliders, and their small legs tired fast.

The Master found them after they had taken shelter in a small cave. It was barely big enough for Aqua and him to curl up in, let alone for the adults to enter. Still, Aqua was half-asleep, and there was nothing for him to hold on to, so they were dragged out easily. Scowling, Eraqus grabbed him by the upper arm and marched him back to the castle. Aqua held the Master’s other hand, yawning as she staggered beside him.

“She’s about to faint, Eraqus,” Xehanort said. “Let me carry her.”

Eraqus passed Aqua off to him, and Terra trembled with the urge to attack and tear Xehanort’s hands off her. He thought that Aqua might have whimpered, but her exhaustion was too great, and she drifted off to sleep. Terra growled.

“Xehanort,” Eraqus said, “go ahead and take Aqua back to the castle. Terra and I need to talk privately.”

As his Master began to shout, Terra was deaf to him. He heard nothing but the furious thumping of his heart as he watched Xehanort carry his friend away. As they walked further away and were swallowed up by the darkness, he suddenly understood.

This was what Xehanort had wanted all along


	2. In the Grip Of Darkness

Dawn had broken, and bright rays of sunlight passed through the castle’s windows. Aqua’s room was flooded with light, which illuminated the tangled mess of sheets that made up her bed. Underneath them all, curled up against the headboard, she laid awake. Sleep hadn’t come easily to her tonight, not since yesterday when Terra had taken her on an adventure, and later, she had woken up to find him gone and Xehanort there instead. He hadn’t been happy, and had been expressed clearly in his scowl.

That had been scary enough, but it was what Xehanort had told her that kept her up all night.

“ _Terra is in big trouble_ ,” Xehanort had said. “ _Eraqus is almost ready to send him home_.”

She had been given barely any time to recover from that shock when Xehanort spoke again. He had told her that he knew Aqua disliked him, and that she couldn’t tell the Master that. Xehanort said that if Aqua admitted that she didn’t like him to Master, he would assume that Terra had convinced her to shun his old friend. Then the Master would be so angry that he would send Terra away!

She didn’t want Terra to go away.

She peeked out of her ball of sheets, like a mouse deciding whether or not it was safe to leave its burrow. The air was cold, so she retreated back underneath, snuggling with the blankets.

A small knock on her door. She knew by the volume that it was Terra.

“Yes?”

Surprisingly, Terra didn’t enter her room. Instead, she heard the door creak as he slumped against it. “The Master wants to talk to you,” he told her.

* * *

“Come in, Aqua.”

Aqua walked up to the Master’s desk, trembling. “Am I in trouble?”

“Trouble? Certainly not, Aqua. You have done nothing wrong.”

If that was true, then why did the Master look so sad? She looked at him, confused, head tilted to one side.

Eraqus sighed, then stood and walked out from behind his desk. He didn’t quite approach her, just stood to the side of the room, staring out the window. “Aqua, is your greatest wish still to become a Keyblade Master?”

“Yes!” Oh no, did Eraqus think that she didn’t want to be here anymore? “I’m going to be the best Keyblade Master ever!”

He smiled, but his eyes were still tinged with sadness. “And you will be. Now, I’m going to help you achieve that.”

“Really?” She ran up to her Master, eager to see what surprise he had for her.

Eraqus kneeled down so that she could look at him without craning her neck back. “Aqua, I am going to send you to train with Master Xehanort.”

The smile was wiped from her face. Eraqus had lied; she must have been in trouble! Seeing her dismay, her Master hastened to say, “He will be able to teach you more than I can. Like you, he is a gifted mage.”

“But I don’t want to go with him!” she cried. “I want to stay here!”

“I know you will miss us Aqua, but it is for the best.”

“No! I want to stay here with you and Terra!” She leapt at her Master, buried her face in his chest and wrapped her arms tight around his neck. Tears dotted her eyes, and a couple fell as she mumbled, “I don’t want to leave.”

Eraqus patted her back. “I know it hurts, but it is the next step to becoming a Keyblade Master.”

“Then I don’t want to be a Master!” she snapped, pulling away. “I want to stay here.”

Eraqus blinked, looking shocked by her ferocity. “Aqua, tell me, is there any reason why Xehanort would not be a good teacher to you?”

_Because he’s creepy; because he’s bad, and it scares me when he looks at me._ The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she held them back, Xehanort’s warning echoing in her head. If she told, then Terra would be sent away, and he would hate her forever.

So, instead, she mumbled, “No.”

“Then it is settled,” Eraqus said.

“No! I don’t want to! Master, please!”

“Enough!” Eraqus barked, and she flinched at the roughness of his words. “I will hear no more of this. Someday, you will thank me.”

She backed away from the Master, pleading with her eyes. But the Master did not waver and finally, she turned and ran out of the room. She ran until she reached Terra’s door, and then pounded on it with her fists. A confused Terra opened the door to be tackled by her, and holding onto him for dear life, she cried.

* * *

For the next two days, Terra hardly let her out of his sight. He seemed terrified that she would be snatched away the second he wasn’t looking.  Truthfully, Aqua didn’t mind. It brought her comfort to use him as a shield against _both_ Masters.

Things had deteriorated quickly. Now, Terra was openly hostile to Xehanort, and would argue and fight with his Master on a whim. Especially whenever Eraqus tried to separate them. That had marked the only time she had ever seen Terra use his keyblade with an intention to cause pain. Eraqus hadn’t been happy, but, he had backed down and now, he and Terra were doing their best to ignore each other.

And finally, the day of parting came. Eraqus held Terra back with both hands as the youth desperately tried to throw off his grip. Aqua stood next to Xehanort, who had one hand on her shoulder. It wasn’t to hold her back, it seemed, but rather, to declare that he was her new Master.

“I wish you luck on your journey, Aqua,” Eraqus said. “And to you as well, Xehanort.”

Xehanort nodded. “She will be well taken care of,” he claimed.

Terra made a sound that was a cross between a growl and a moan. Aqua took a step towards him, and Xehanort tightened his grip on her. A moment passed, and he released her, but his fingers let go stiffly as if someone had peeled them off.

Terra turned his angry eyes away from his Master’s restraining hand and onto her. Immediately, his face softened; his hair seemed to droop. She approached him and the two just stared at each other, speaking silently.

At last, Terra whispered aloud, “I’m sorry.”

“Come, Aqua,” Xehanort said, “we must go.”

Terra’s eyes widened and he looked intensely at her, begging her to pull some last trick out of her sleeve.

But there was nothing she could do.

She walked back to Xehanort, allowed him to lift her onto his glider, and watched Terra and Eraqus dully as Xehanort summoned her armour for her.

And then, she was in the air with her new Master.

* * *

Somehow, in the short time it took them to travel from the Land of Departure to this world, Aqua had lost all the skills that had made her an apprentice in the first place.

Xehanort impatiently rapped his fingers against his keyblade as Aqua failed yet another simple spell. Aqua cringed, glancing back at him as he watched in frustration. His emotions were starting to grow past that now and were entering the domain of anger; he had only taken Aqua as an apprentice to prevent her from standing in his way in the future. Right now though, he couldn’t see her as a threat at all.

The tip of his keyblade slammed against the ground, and Aqua’s mumbled spell died before it left her lips. “And here,” Xehanort said coldly, “I thought that you actually knew how to use a keyblade!”

They were words that would hurt, that would rub salt into what were already painful wounds. He didn’t care. He never particularly wanted an apprentice and now he was stuck with her. The least she could do was make his time worthwhile.

Her face flush with colour, Aqua stared at the ground. Xehanort snorted and walked past her, not bothering to even give her a courtesy glance. He didn’t care if she was aching over losing her friend and her former Master; moping would not get them anywhere, and it was time for her to move on.

* * *

He wasn’t too surprised that there was a letter within the week.

There were two, actually: one for him from Eraqus, and one for Aqua from Terra. Intent on making sure that she didn’t walk in on him and see the letters, he went into her room, pulled her out of bed, and tossed her outside with an order to train until he fetched her. Then he retreated to his office and set about taking care of those letters.

Eraqus’ letter was no surprise. Mostly, it inquired about Aqua and how she was coping. Xehanort wrote back a reasonably long reply, claiming that while Aqua was coping, she still missed them greatly, and that Eraqus shouldn’t visit until she had adjusted some more. Terra’s letter to Aqua was more personal, and it was obvious that Eraqus had scanned over it first – Terra didn’t insult him once in that letter. Even as a young boy, Xehanort had always been oddly mature, and so, that made forging an answer to Terra’s letter fairly difficult. Still, Terra was a child – he wouldn’t be able to tell the real thing from a fake.

Once he was satisfied with his response, he sealed both letters and sent them off. Afterwards, he treated himself to breakfast, remembering only while he was eating that Aqua hadn’t eaten yet.

He continued eating. She still hadn’t reached her previous level of training. She didn’t deserve to eat.

* * *

Two weeks in, and he was suspicious. Aqua’s progress had been lackluster, to say the least, and now he was wondering if there was something more to it. The entire reason Eraqus had sent her off with him was that she was gifted in magic . . . perhaps she was now trying to prove that false, trying to persuade the Masters that they had made a mistake.

It was quite ingenious actually, and finally, Xehanort saw a trace of someone that, in the future, could have challenged him.

“Disgraceful,” he said as Aqua – purposely, he now realized – botched another spell. “Your Master would be ashamed.”

As usual, Aqua said nothing but this time, Xehanort didn’t let it rest there.

“I suppose then that it is only proper of me to delay our next gathering.”

Aqua had turned her back to him the entire time she had been training, but now, she met his eyes. “Gathering?”

“Eraqus and Terra had wanted to meet with us to see how you were settling in. But I cannot allow it; I will not embarrass my comrade by showcasing how poor his teaching skills were.”

Aqua’s mouth dropped open. Xehanort walked away before his smirk appeared. He predicted that Aqua would improve vastly within the week.

* * *

Xehanort watched as Aqua fought the heartless – or more accurately – as the neoshadows tore at his apprentice. Whenever one came a little too close to plunging its claws into her chest, he struck out with his keyblade, destroying the pathetic creature. Eventually, Aqua’s struggles died, and she lay limp with the heartless still atop her. At that point, Xehanort disposed of the rest of them, and turned away for a brief second.

When he looked back, Aqua was sitting up.

Her quick recovery took him by surprise, and for a moment, he thought she’d finally unlocked her ability to cast healing magic. But the claw marks covering her body spoke otherwise, and with that, the truth dawned on him. Aqua hadn’t been unconscious, or grievously injured; she had _faked_ it. She had seen that her Master would step in when she was at risk of perishing, so she had deliberately stopped fighting in order to force his hand.

She had outfoxed him.

Fury rushed through his veins and turned his face red. That was not allowed. Ever. He had taken her on as an apprentice to stop her from defeating him, not to allow her to manipulate him. This had to be stopped now, before she got any ideas.

“You were acting,” he said coldly.

Aqua shook her head, but she was lying.

He smiled. “That was a clever trick, but I will warn you that I do not tolerate disobedience.”

Aqua shivered, bringing her knees up to her chest. “Master, they were hurting me, and I couldn’t -“

“Silence!” he roared. In a quiet, calm voice, he continued, “If you want to see who can outwit the other, then I will humour you.”

Clasping his hands behind his back, he turned and walked away. Behind him, he heard Aqua’s sigh; obviously the child thought that she had been spared punishment.

He smirked.

With a snap of his fingers, the dark guardian rose from his shadow. Aqua froze upon seeing it, her face one of pure terror.

He pointed at her. “Guardian, _submit_!”

Aqua had to learn that she could _never_ defeat him.

* * *

“Hold the shield,” he growled.

Aqua said nothing; he doubted that she physically could, so great was the energy placed into her spell. The blue hexagonal barrier of the Reflect spell was the only thing standing between the girl and a powerful beam of darkness, and he had no doubt that she was doing everything in her power to keep it back. Her face glistened with sweat and from where he stood, Xehanort could see that her limbs were trembling.

He grunted, and placed even more power into his attack.

The barrier cracked. Aqua’s eyes lit up with fear, and the barrier weakened further as she began to panic. As Xehanort continued to bore into the barrier, he could sense the flavour of her magic: desperate, crude, but possessing great potential. He placed no more power into his attack and instead, let it overpower his apprentice’s spell slowly, savouring her terror.

Finally, the barrier shattered into a hundred blue shards, and the darkness slammed into her without mercy. She was tossed what may have been a yard away, and rolled to a crumbled stop in the desert. With sand falling off every part of her, she whimpered and tried to sit up, only to collapse.

“Get up,” Xehanort commanded. “Up!”

She tried to obey, and managed to lift her chest off the ground. Impatient, Xehanort grabbed her by the scruff of her shirt and hauled her to her feet. She staggered forwards, barely managing to stay upright. With wide, frightened eyes, she watched him and awaited his next words.

Xehanort’s eyes narrowed, focusing on the shaking of her muscles and the way her entire stature seemed to sag. Ah, he thought he knew what was happening . . .

“Aqua . . .” She closed her eyes at his tone. “. . . do me a favour and cast Fire.”

Her eyes opened. Though she was trying to hide it, he could see that she was relieved, and baffled, by his order to cast a simple spell.

She raised her keyblade, and mouthed that single word . . .

And Xehanort watched as Aqua suddenly shrieked, clutched at her chest, and fell to the ground.

Here was another trait they shared that both Eraqus and Terra lacked. All magic users possessed a finite amount of energy they could channel into their spells, an amount that depended mostly on practice and skill. Since the amount was not limitless, it was possible to use up all of one’s magical energy. Normally, this only resulted in exhaustion; however, it was different for those who were very sensitive to magic like Aqua and him. Just as a warrior could call on adrenaline to allow him to fight even while exhausted, so could mages call upon a hidden store of magic to cast spells beyond their limits – but it was terribly painful. Aqua, unwittingly, had done that in her desperation to maintain her Reflect spell. And her attempt to cast another spell while her energy was burnt out had brought her this pain.

She was on the ground now, curled into a ball, gasping so hard it sounded like she was choking. He knew how it felt: like fire had replaced the blood in her veins. He had been through that torture once, and vowed to never again experience it.

He waited for her to recover. It took a long time, but finally, her breathing returned to normal and tears were no longer pouring down her face. “I did not expect that to happen,” he said softly. “I thought you were . . .” He trailed off, shaking his head as if embarrassed.

Those were all lies, of course. He had purposely pushed her towards this moment. His words had the desired effect, however, and he watched a cloud of shame wash over her. Good, very good. This was going perfectly.

“If you can no longer use your magic, then we will move onto physical training. Take up your keyblade.”

Aqua did so, and then jumped as he summoned his. “I’m . . . I’m fighting you?”

Pleased at her nervousness, he said, “Do you see anyone else? Now, let us begin!”

It was horribly one-sided. Although she tried hard, she wasn’t able to land a single hit on him, and Xehanort only held back enough to not cripple her. It went on for maybe an hour or two, until Aqua was so badly bruised that she could barely move. Xehanort ended it there, and then walked back to his home, leaving her to find her own way back.

Things had gone excellently. He had beaten Aqua into the ground and had hardly broken a sweat. He had proved to her that both physically and magically, she was nowhere near his calibre. His power was legions beyond what she could conjure, and that would force her to fear and respect him.

He smiled. He would continue to drill this lesson into her head, until it ran so deep inside her that even when she was grown and he was on his deathbed, she would be too frightened to challenge him.

* * *

_. . . she is under the impression that the purpose of your visit is to return her to the Land of Departure. If you would be kind enough to do so, I will ask that you help her face the truth. It will hurt her, I know, but so long as she believes that her apprenticeship under me is temporary, she will always train with a handicap._

_Because of this, I will also ask you not to bring Terra. No doubt, he would only fuel her fantasies . . ._

He put the quill down at the sound of the knock. Aqua stood at the doorway. Quickly, he scanned the desk; good, Terra’s newest letter was out of sight.

“Did I not tell you to train outside?” he asked, voice dangerously calm.

Aqua swallowed. “There’s a visitor . . .”

He frowned. He hadn’t t even finished writing Eraqus’ invitation. Who would be visiting him? “Send them in.”

He put the half-completed letter away, and straightened his spine as he awaited this mysterious guest. It did not take long for the steps to reach his doorway, and upon seeing who it was, his nails dug into the wood of his desk.

It was Yen Sid.

“Yen Sid,” Xehanort said, “what can I do for you?”

“Oh, nothing in particular,” the old wizard said. “I just came to say hello.”

“Indeed.” The tiniest of sneers invaded his otherwise pleasant mask.

“I see you have found your apprentice – and one that was formerly Eraqus’, nonetheless. It is quite astonishing how these things work out.” Yen Sid walked over to Xehanort’s bookcase, and made a show of examining the contents. “I will admit that I am very surprised.”

“As am I,” Xehanort said smoothly. “It had not been my intention to steal away one of Eraqus’ students. But fate has always worked in mysterious ways.”

“And she is happy?”

“Happy as she can be.” He silently thanked the fact that none of the bruises he had left recently were on her face. “She is still upset about leaving behind her former life, though.”

“That is to be expected,” Yen Sid said. “Now, let us move to more serious matters.”

Yen Sid smiled. “Tell me, what are you having for dinner?”

* * *

Xehanort was no fool. He knew the real reason Yen Sid was staying for dinner was that the wizard did not believe that Aqua was safe with him. He knew that Yen Sid would spend the entire meal badgering Aqua to tell him the truth, or else he would seek her out somewhere that Xehanort could not interfere.

Surely, Yen Sid thought himself an excellent manipulator; but he was nothing compared to Xehanort.

“There will be a guest for dinner tonight,” he told Aqua. “Master Yen Sid.”

“I’ve heard of him,” she said. “He’s the Ma – Eraqus’ friend.”

“My friend, as well,” Xehanort lied. “Why, he was the one who convinced me to take you as an apprentice!”

He smiled at the blankness of her expression. “Originally, I had my eyes on another, but Yen Sid insisted that I should give you a chance. None of this would have been possible without him.”

He walked away with confidence. Aqua may have hated him, but now she would hate Yen Sid even more.

She wouldn’t tell him anything.

* * *

The day came. Today, Eraqus was visiting.

Xehanort had cancelled training for the last few days, just to ensure that some of Aqua’s more . . . _colourful_ bruises had time to heal. Unfortunately for him, Curaga only took care of gashes and broken bones, not a harmless bruise. But as he looked her over, she seemed to have no more bruise than your average warrior, and that suited his needs.

Aqua was filled with energy the entire morning. He let her run off and do whatever she pleased, if only because he didn’t want to be burdened with managing her.

Eraqus arrived and Xehanort quickly moved to greet him, confiscating Terra’s latest letter with the excuse of ‘giving it to her after he was gone’. Less than a minute passed between Eraqus’ arrival and Aqua appearing out of nowhere and launching herself at him. Eraqus picked her up easily, spinning her around in the air like a father with his child.

Xehanort pretended to leave and give them their privacy, but he actually listened at the door. This was the one time where things might stray from his plans; he could do many things, but he could not read his apprentice’s mind. What he did so, however, was send a faint pulse of magic through the air. Eraqus would not notice it, but Aqua would, and she would know that he was watching.

It started as he expected, with both parties stating how much they missed each other. Then Aqua did it: she asked if she could go home. And Xehanort smirked as he listened to Eraqus patiently explain that this _was_ her home now, that she wouldn’t ever live in the Land of Departure again. Things broke down from there, and the two were virtually screaming at each other by the end.

The door nearly whacked him in the face when it slammed opened. He caught a glimpse of a small, blue blur racing down the hall, and a sob echoed in the air. Eraqus ran out of the room next, calling his former apprentice’s name.

Xehanort threw an arm out to stop him. “Let her go.”

“But  . . .”

“She needs to be alone.”

* * *

As he had hoped, Aqua hid for the rest of the day. So it was that Xehanort shooed off a very disappointed Eraqus, reassuring the old Master that Aqua would eventually forgive him. Then, once Eraqus was gone, he pulled up a chair and waited for her to sneak in.

In his mind, he worked out the next part of his plan. He and Aqua would have to disappear, that was certain. No doubt that Eraqus would try to return and rekindle his relationship with her. That would be disastrous in more than one way. Thus, a new home was required, somewhere secretive and quiet where they could live privately.

The Keyblade Graveyard seemed like a good candidate.

The door creaked open and a tiny foot stepped over the threshold. Aqua froze at the sight of him, as if she had actually thought she could get in unseen.

“Eraqus is gone,” he said.

Aqua seemed to grow even smaller. She dragged herself inside, closing the door behind her.

He decided to take the sympathetic route. “It was painful, I know, but think of it this way: it would have been rougher if Terra had come, too.”

“Why wasn’t he here?” she whispered.

“He didn’t want to be here.”

He thought that she would cry, but she didn’t. It appeared she had already cried too much today. Instead she trudged past him, heading for her room with her head bowed. He knew that she believed him.

After all, to her knowledge, Terra had never even bothered to write.

* * *

There was a marked difference in her over the next few weeks. He wondered briefly if it was because he had moved them to another location, but the change seemed too deep to be attributed to something that trivial. On the fourth week though, he discovered the real reason why.

He had just woken up and stepped outside when Aqua ran over to him. “Master, watch this!” she cried. Raising her keyblade, she – for the first time – cast a Magnera spell that gathered up every loose rock within a two yard radius. Honestly, he was surprised; he hadn’t thought her capable yet of casting third-tier spells.

As he struggled to think of what to say, she turned to him, smiling brightly. He looked down at her, and raised his eyebrows at the yearning for praise he saw there.

Then, it all made sense.

In the aftermath of what she believed to be Eraqus and Terra’s desertion, she had latched onto the only other person who might care for her – her new Master. Indeed, now that Xehanort looked closely, he could see the shy craving for love and attention written in her eyes. He couldn’t give her the former, but he could give the latter and let her twist it into love.

He thought for a second, and then made his decision.

“Good work,” he said. “Now, go eat your breakfast.”

Her smile widened, and she nodded eagerly. He watched her, expressionless, as she ran past him and inside. This may work even better than making her fear him. All he had to do was drop a few compliments here and there, keep her starved for his approval, and she would be completely compliant. Her threat would be neutralized.

Slowly, his lips stretched into a cruel smile.


	3. Of Light and Darkness

“Who are you?” Aqua sneered.

The subject of her question, Ventus, cringed, taking a step back behind his new Master. Xehanort chuckled, and placed a hand on the small boy’s back to keep him still. “Now, Aqua,” he said “be nice. We would not want our friend here to feel unwelcome.”

Aqua shrugged. Her eyes, narrowed like a cat’s, continued to hold Ventus in their sights. No longer were they the colour from her youth; over time, those eyes had darkened in hue, and yet they still gleamed with a golden glow. The light that used to follow her had been tainted, although she still denied the darkness.

“Why is he here?” Aqua demanded. She paced back and forth over a small area like a restless tiger inside its cage.

“Ventus, like you, has proven himself to be worthy of handling a keyblade. He will be training alongside you.”

“What? I’m training with him!” Blood rushed to her face as she made the transition from annoyed to furious. “He’s nothing but a weed! Look at him: he’s pathetic.”

Ventus seemed hurt by her harsh words, and moved even closer to his Master. Xehanort sighed, unable to think that Aqua was anything other than correct.

“That may be,” he said, ignoring how Ventus looked up at him in dismay, “but henceforth, he is training with you. You have no choice in the matter.”

“Why?” she spat. “Why him?”

She glared into her Master’s face and there, Xehanort saw the question she refused to ask.

_Why do you want him when you have me?_

Xehanort ignored her questions, both spoken and not. “I will leave you two alone so that you may introduce yourselves.” Ventus shook his head vehemently, but Xehanort pressed on. “Aqua, do not kill him.”

He left them to it. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be too much blood to clean up afterwards.

* * *

“Begin,” Xehanort said.

Aqua charged as Ventus struggled to lift his keyblade. The boy was so weak that he seemed barely capable of raising it. He yelped as Rainfell crashed against his weapon, and the keyblade nearly slipped from his fingers again.

“Wow, you’re really strong,” Ventus remarked. The smile he gave his fellow apprentice quickly vanished when Aqua swung at him, seemingly intent on beheading him.

“Aqua . . .” Xehanort growled. Aqua glanced back at him, then rolled her eyes and stopped aiming for Ventus’ neck.

By the fifth block, Ventus was nearly on his knees. “Don’t you think you’re hitting a little hard?” he asked innocently.

Aqua scoffed. “It’s not my problem if you’re too weak to handle things.”

Ventus’ eyes widened. “Master?”

“Continue,” Xehanort said calmly.

As Aqua continued to beat his newest apprentice to a pulp, Xehanort watched greedily. So far, Ventus was only fighting back with his keyblade and his light, both of which were nothing when compared to Aqua’s talent. Even so, the ferocity with which she fought would give an observer the impression that Aqua feared for her life. Whether that was true or not, it didn’t matter. All that mattered is that Xehanort needed Aqua to be that aggressive, to go a little too far and ignite that flame of darkness that lurked inside Ventus’ heart. As he watched, Ventus appeared to reach that stage. Aqua knocked him onto his backside, towering above him as he struggled to stand. For a brief moment, not even a second long, Ventus’ eyes flared yellow and darkness curled around his hands. Then, with a visible effort, the boy dragged the darkness back into his heart, choosing to let Aqua humiliate him further instead.

Furious, Xehanort slammed his keyblade down on the stone. “Enough!” he barked.

Aqua immediately snapped to attention. Ventus was still trying to stand.

“That was a horrid display,” Xehanort said, looking down his nose at Ventus. “You better hope that you improve quickly.”

He turned to Aqua, who eagerly awaited his words.

“I told you not to kill him,” he said to her disappointment.

“I wasn’t going to,” she protested. “It only would have made him choke a little.”

Xehanort frowned, unsure whether to believe her.

* * *

Ven dragged himself inside, aching after his latest session with the Master. He was beginning to believe that leaving home had been a bad idea. Originally, Xehanort had lured him in with claims of great adventures and magnificent feats. Ven, however, was only finding pain.

He shut the front door behind him, turned and nearly screamed when he saw Aqua glaring at him. She was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and he had the sense that she had been waiting for him.

“So,” she said, “now you get _private_ sessions with the Master.”

He grimaced and rubbed the back of his head. Honestly, he would prefer it if he didn’t. “Yeah, if you want to call them that . . .”

“What does he teach you?” She was calm when she asked that, but it felt like the calm before the storm.

“Various things,” Ven said. “I don’t know what he’s trying to aim for, though.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” she said flippantly.

She didn’t seem to have any more interest in speaking and he almost walked past her. But something made him stay. Perhaps it was the tension in her muscles that spoke of worries she feared to voice, or the stoniness of her distant eyes that seemed haunted by sorrow; or maybe it was because of none of that, and simply due to the fact that Ven couldn’t comprehend the idea of a person being this cold, that underneath those layers of hate and cruelty, there had to be light.

“Why do you hate me?” he asked.

Aqua blinked, as if utterly shocked by his question. “Why wouldn’t I?” she shot back, the question sounding evasive even to him.

“Come on, I haven’t even yelled at you.” He threw his hands up. “I don’t get why you’re so mad at me.”

“Because you don’t belong here,” she hissed. “The Master was wrong: you don’t deserve a keyblade. You’re just a little boy!”

With each sentence, she walked closer and closer to him, so that she finally loomed above him and he had to wrench his head back to see her.

“Why you?” she asked softly, a hint of pain in her voice. “What’s so special about you?”

He looked at her and wished he had an answer to give.

* * *

Ven had assumed that between Xehanort’s callousness and Aqua’s hatred, he was getting the short end of the stick. However, as the days went by and he watched the interaction between his Master and the other apprentice, he realized that wasn’t true. Xehanort was just as aloof with Aqua as he was with him. He was also mean, condescending, and a whole host of other things Ven didn’t like.

None which explained why Aqua kept crawling back to him.

Before Xehanort, Ven wouldn’t have counted himself as a particularly observant person. It wasn’t that he didn’t see things, but more that he didn’t care enough to notice – particularly if it was about someone’s personal life. Aqua, however, fascinated him, and not in a good way. Mostly, it was her utter devotion to Xehanort that intrigued him; if Xehanort asked her to throw herself off a cliff, Ven thought that she might seriously do it. That level of obedience was already creepy enough, but it got even worse with the more he learned.

As Xehanort’s other apprentice, Ven had the privilege of bearing witness to the more brutal parts of Aqua’s training. For the most part, Xehanort tried to keep Ven from seeing them, but sometimes, he did anyways. He would watch, horror-stricken, as Xehanort beat her until she cried out, all in the name of teaching her to endure pain. And then, if that wasn’t bad enough, Aqua would get on her knees, apologize for being so weak and beg her Master for his forgiveness.

Xehanort wouldn’t always give it.

The other thing Ven noticed, a thing that was painfully obvious, was that Aqua really, really didn’t like that he was training with her. She never missed a chance to show him up, or to give him another bruise. She took great pleasure in it, actually. Ven’s only reprieve was that she didn’t seem so keen on verbally abashing him.

But while it was easy to see that Aqua hated him, it was hard to tell why.

He had his breakthrough two weeks later, during one of his ‘private’ sessions with Xehanort. Mostly, these private sessions consisted of Xehanort trying to drive him to his limits and make him cry. It just happened to be during that one session that he caught sight of Aqua watching them from a distance. The pure rage on her face made his heart skip a beat.

Then, after spending a night in bed thinking about it, he finally understood.

Aqua was jealous.

He wondered how many people she knew besides Master Xehanort – _if_ she knew anyone else. Xehanort had once mentioned that he gained Aqua as an apprentice when she was younger than Ven was. Ven pondered that, trying to picture what it would be like to grow up under Xehanort’s thumb.

It wasn’t a pretty picture he came up with.

Ven sighed and rolled onto his stomach. _She must be so lonely_ , he thought. Surely, Xehanort wouldn’t have allowed her to keep any pets, and her isolation meant that she had no friends. Now that he thought about it, there was only Xehanort to keep her company – which might explain why she was so upset with his arrival.

_No one’s childhood should be like that_ , he thought, _everyone should have at least one person they can count on_. 

He stared at the wall that divided their rooms.

“Maybe,” he whispered, “I could be that person for her . . .”

* * *

“Well, I’ve had enough of this,” Aqua announced.

Ven nodded absently. The two of them were currently walking around Twilight Town, Xehanort having ordered Aqua to give him a tour of a few of the worlds. So far, they had managed to get through the day without any arguments, though there had been some close calls.

“It’s not even dinner yet,” he murmured. “Do we have to go now?”

Truthfully, he wanted to delay their return as long as possible. Twilight Town was bright and inviting, the opposite of their Master.

Aqua must have secretly enjoyed the peace too, as she said, “Fine. Go away and meet me back here in an hour.”

He did so, and the next hour was great. He spent the time wandering around the town, speaking to those he saw and quickly making friends. It was a welcome relief from his time with Aqua and Xehanort, and he nearly forgot his promise to meet up with Aqua at the end of the hour.

That was why he was currently racing through the streets, glancing nervously at any clock he saw. Aqua would _kill_ him if he was late, and he liked being alive, thank you very much.

He nearly bowled over a little girl. Leaping to the side, he managed to safely pass her, but at the cost of putting himself off balance. He smacked into a wall, and fell down it until he was a crumbled mess on the ground. With a groan, he rolled his shoulders, hearing them pop, and looked around.

His eyes settled on a vendor’s cart. This looked interesting.

He ended up buying two: one for him, and one for Aqua. The rest of his trip was markedly slower, as he strived not to ruin his gift.

“Where were you?” Aqua snarled as he came into view. “You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago!”

“I was buying these,” he mumbled. Carefully, he held out one of the ice-cream bars to her.

She didn’t move, didn’t even blink. She just stared at him, gaping. “You were buying ice-cream,” she said in a monotone.

“Yep, this one’s yours.”

She took it from him in one swift movement. The entire time that was she peeling off the wrapper, she watched him suspiciously, as if scared that he would turn into a monster and attack her. He opened his ice-cream too, took a lick, and savoured the cool, but salty, taste.

They ate in silence for the most part. But after she had eaten hers, Aqua saw it fit to say, “At least you have good taste in food.”

“The vendor said it was one of her best-sellers,” he said.

She frowned. He felt like he was a specimen placed under a microscope. “Why did you do this?”

He shrugged carelessly. “I thought you might like it.”

Her lips thinned. “That’s not the real reason. Tell me why, _now_.”

“But that is the reason,” he insisted. “I’m allowed to be nice to you, aren’t I?”

She stared at him. Dropping the wooden ice-cream stick like it was poisonous, she yanked him to his feet (almost making him drop his ice-cream) and growled, “Summon your armour; we’re leaving.”

Ven did as she asked, smiling on the inside. He’d wear her down yet.

* * *

“You’re kidding, right?” Aqua demanded, leaning against the doorway.

“You of all people know that I do not ‘kid’.” The word left Xehanort awkwardly, as if he had never heard of it before. “Yen Sid _insists_ on meeting with me, and I doubt that you would wish to accompany me.”

“That’s true,” Aqua said.

Xehanort grunted absently. Even though Aqua had fully embraced her apprenticeship under him, her aversion to Yen Sid still remained. It had been an unexpected revelation, though one that very much suited him. Aqua, on her own initiative, would happily misinform Yen Sid about their plans. She probably wouldn’t fool the old wizard, but she could keep him guessing until it was too late to act.

“What does he want anyways?” Aqua asked.

“It is most probable that he wishes to discuss Ventus.”

Her face lit up with wild glee. “See, I told you he was bad news!” she crowed, marching up to him. “You should get rid of him.”

“He is an unfortunate weakness, but a necessary one, nonetheless.” Xehanort continued to gather up his meagre belongings as he spoke. “Neither of our hearts are suited for his task.”

“What task?” she asked sharply. She cowered when he glared at her in a warning not to use that tone with him.

“The X-Blade,” he breathed. “You know what that is, yes?”

“It was the only thing you talked about a couple of years back,” she said dryly. “I thought you said you needed a new body before we went down that route.”

“And I will have it,” he said. “Ventus’ heart holds a perfect balance of light and darkness; with his heart, we could have a prototype X-Blade. It would not be the real thing, but it would be enough for our needs.”

“And that’s why you need him,” she whispered. In a louder voice, she said, “That’s the only reason, right? There’s nothing else?”

He took a few moments to think, deciding now was a good time to grant her a rare compliment. “Naturally,” his voice practically oozed with false kindness, but he could see that Aqua didn’t notice, so focused she was on his words, “you are strong enough to serve me. Why would I need another?”

Her eyes lit up and had he looked, he would have seen a shadow of the young girl she used to be. “He’s just a tool,” she said in awe.

“That he is. Now, can I entrust him to you for a few days?”

* * *

Aqua was in a great mood, Ven noted. By that he meant that she was actually _training_ with him instead of smacking him around. Her good mood also seemed to be accompanied by an air of superiority and arrogance, and she held her chin high time the entire time.

Ven had no problems with feeding her ego because, honestly, he couldn’t do anything else. Aqua was a lot better than him in just about everything. So, he observed calmly when she showed him how “the experts did it”, and didn’t react to her remarks about how he “had much to learn”. He was just happy she wasn’t snubbing him.

She yawned suddenly, stretching. “Ventus, let’s quit for today,” she said.

“Already?” Ven asked. He didn’t even have any bruises yet.

She shrugged. “I can’t really teach you anything, so there’s no use in wearing ourselves out.”

“You’re kidding right?” Ven exclaimed. “You were just showing me all the spells I don’t know yet. Seriously, how can you say that you have nothing to teach me?”

She preened at his praise. “Oh, there’s a lot of stuff I could show you,” she said, “but the Master has _special_ things in mind for you.”

His smile twitched. “What . . . what kind of things?” he asked warily.

She laughed and patted him on the head. “You’ll see.”

* * *

He wasn’t sure how he did it, but he had convinced Aqua to take him to another world. That was why he was currently splashing in the waves of Destiny Islands as Aqua watched from some distance away.

“Aqua!” He virtually sang her name, making her cringe. “The water’s great, come join me!”

“If you haven’t noticed,” she said, “I don’t have a bathing suit.”

“Neither do I!” Giving her a lopsided grin, he squeezed some water out of his clothes for emphasis. He knew that later, when they re-entered the coldness of space, he would be freezing, but it was totally worth it.

Aqua rolled her eyes, and took a seat upon the bent trunk of a palm tree.

Just a moment ago, his joy had been threatening to sweep him off his feet. Now, it had turned sour. He waded out of the surf, put his shoes back on (which he had been smart enough to remove before going for a dip), and walked over to her, heaving himself onto the trunk beside her. Aqua ignored him, arms crossed behind her head as she lay back against the tree.

“We didn’t have many beaches in my world,” he said casually. “What about you?”

He thought, at first, that she wouldn’t answer. But she eventually stirred and said, “We had a waterfall. That’s about it.”

He studied her closely as he asked his next question. “Where did you come from, anyways?”

“Land of Departure.” A hard note crept into her voice, one that let Ven know that was all she would say about the subject.

“Oh, okay.” He leapt down from the palm tree, extracting himself from the conversation before he angered her. “Cool.”

He returned to the ocean as in the back of his mind, curiosity took root.

* * *

The next day, he was out on his own. He thought he knew where he was going, having consulted the star-charts earlier, but he had never been that great with directions.

However, despite that, he still found a world at the previously calculated end of his journey, and he prayed that it was the right one. He pointed the nose of his glider down, descending slowly upon the world. Save for a giant white castle, he didn’t see much besides wilderness.

He was within the world’s borders, marvelling at the sight before him, when an orange blur whizzed past him. He looked skywards to see an armoured figure screech to a halt before it shot back down to circle him.

“Who goes there?” said the mysterious figure.

“Wow,” Ven said, “you’re a keyblade wielder, too!”

“Yeah, I am. I’m just an apprentice but . . . Hey, you didn’t answer my question!”

“Sorry.” Ven reached up to his shoulder and dismissed his armour. “My name’s Ventus, but my friends call me Ven.”

There was a moment’s pause before the other person did the same. A flash of light, and then there was a brunet with bright blue eyes standing on the glider across from him. “I’m Terra,” the newly christened Terra said.

Their gliders hovered closer, just enough for Ven and Terra to shake hands. “So, what are you doing here?” Terra asked.

Ven shifted under Terra’s gaze uncomfortably, unsure about how his reason would be received. “I’m . . . I’m just curious to see where Aqua came from.”

“You’ve met Aqua!” The larger boy exclaimed.

“Well, yeah, I train with her,” Ven said.

Something changed, hardened in Terra’s face. “You’re Xehanort’s apprentice? I didn’t think he would want another one.”

_Neither did Aqua_. Seeking to change the subject, he said, “So, you know Aqua?”

“She used to train her with me, until,” Terra’s lip curled, “ _Xehanort_ came.” Terra glanced around, as if afraid they’d be overhear, before hissing, “Does she talk about me?”

“Actually, she’s never mentioned you.”

“Oh.” Terra deflated visibly.

Ven asked, “If you two were friends, how come you never visit each other?”

Terra glowered at the distant ground. “A few months after Xehanort took her away, he and Aqua disappeared. Me and the Master haven’t been able to find them since. Sure, they respond to letters, but . . .” Terra shook his head. “Never mind. I don’t know why Aqua doesn’t visit though.”

Terra’s eyes clouded over in sorrow, and Ven fidgeted, suddenly feeling like he was intruding on something private. But as Ven shifted, Terra’s chin snapped around to face his direction. Blue eyes fixed on his, and Ven could see that Terra was formulating a plan.

His glider came closer, so that they were almost touching. Terra crouched over slightly, whispering, “Could you . . . could you take me back with you, just for a visit?”

“I’m not sure,” Ven admitted. “Master Xehanort’s supposed to be back soon –”

Terra cut him off. “Forgot it, then.” His glider drifted a little away, and then flew back to reclaim that distance. “Look, the next time Xehanort’s gone, could you come get me? Or bring Aqua here, if she’s willing?”

“Sure thing,” Ven promised.

Terra smiled warmly at him. “Thanks, Ven.”

* * *

The second he landed on the world, Aqua was storming out of their home. “You’ve only come back now?” she hissed. “It’s almost dark!”

Out of genuine curiosity, he said, “Were you worried?”

She stared at him. “No,” she stammered. “The Master would kill me if you disappeared.”

“Right.” He said nothing else about the subject, but made it clear in that one word that he didn’t really believe her.

“Get inside.” She adverted her eyes and quickly turned away, her composure clearly ruffled.

Halfway there, Ven dropped the bomb. “I have a message for you,” he said, arms crossed behind his head.

“What’s that?” she asked, sounding incredibly uninterested.

“Terra misses you.”

She froze mid-step. “How did you find out about him?”

He ignored her. “The next time the Master’s out, Terra wants you to come visit,” Ven continued, aware of how her face was turning purple. “Or if you don’t want to go back, he can come here . . .”

“How dare you!” she screeched. She whipped around faster than he thought possible, and Ven had no defense for when her hand made contact with his cheek. With a cry, he stumbled backwards. “How. . . you . . . argh!”

In her rage, she accidently cast a Thunder spell, and the temperature of the air around them seemed to spike. The lightning struck between them, making their faces appear pale. He saw it then, when the light bounced off her eyes, just how close they were to becoming gold. Ven didn’t know what would happen if the blue faded completely, but he didn’t want to find out. 

Logically, seeing how close she was to losing it, he should proceed cautiously. But her slap had kindled a flame in him, and now, all of his frustration was released. “What’s your problem?” he shouted. “I don’t need your permission to talk to anyone; you’re just an apprentice, too!”

Rainfell appeared in a fizzle of light and purple flames. “Do you need me to show you your place again?” she sneered. “Because I’ll _gladly_ do it.”

He had enough sense left not to summon his keyblade, but only enough for that. “What’s wrong, Aqua? Scared that Terra will like me best, and that he won’t want to be your friend anymore . . .”

“He’s not my friend!” she screamed.

“Then why are you guys exchanging letters?”

“I . . . what?” Some of her anger gave way to be replaced by confusion. “What in Hades are you talking about?”

“Terra mentioned your letters and . . .” Ven trailed off, an obvious thought hitting him. Maybe Terra had been referring to the past, and not the present.

“Terra has _never_ written me.” She spoke so seriously that Ven wasn’t sure it was the same person. But then the anger was back, “A good thing, too, because I don’t want any of his letters.”

She leaned in close to Ven’s face. “He’s _nothing_ to me.”

She stalked off, and Ven was left to digest what he had just heard. Aqua claimed that she had never gotten a letter from Terra .  . . but Terra said they had communicated, however briefly, through letters.

Who was lying?

More importantly, _why_ were they lying?

* * *

They didn’t speak for the rest of the night, nor during the morning when Xehanort returned, nor during the afternoon in which they trained. The stars were high by the time they were released from their training, and Aqua stalked off without a word. Ven lingered outside a little, if only to ensure that Aqua would reach wherever she was going so that he wouldn’t run into her in the halls.

After a minute of two, he headed for his room. He saw no sign of Aqua or Xehanort along the way, and made it to his bed without harm. Exhausted from the day’s activities, he fell back onto his bed, not even bothering to tuck himself beneath the covers. There, he stared blankly at the ceiling, his thoughts churning.

He really was miserable. Sure, it wasn’t exactly fun when Aqua had been insulting and teasing him, but it was better than this silence that had settled over them. If he thought Aqua had hated him before, it was nothing compared to now.

_But it’s not my fault. I’ve done everything to be friends with her, and she . . ._ He sighed and curled up into a sitting position, resting his chin on his knees. _Why was she angry when I mentioned Terra? He honestly seemed to miss her._

Through his open window floated in the sound of cracking wood. He stood and walked over to it, if only to shut it so he could sleep.

But he was ensnared by the scene he saw. It was Aqua, viciously attacking some dummies. The remains of a few were already strewn across the ground and as he watched, a wooden arm flew off its host in an arc.

She only left three standing, which honestly, considering how seldom they used them, wouldn’t bug their Master that much. She ended with a cry that echoed through the air, slicing vertically through a dummy before collapsing to her knees. Her keyblade embedded upright in the ground, she slumped against it, growing still.

There, in the moonlight, she looked so small, vulnerable. He thought that he could see the child she had once been – lost and alone – and his heart stirred with pity.

He made his way outside slowly, and tiptoed past the rubble strewn across the sand. Softly, hesitatingly, he said, “Aqua?”

He heard her gasp. She scrambled to her feet swiftly, pulling Rainfell out of the ground as if expecting to be attacked. She seemed surprised to see him there, though it didn’t last long.

“What do you want?” she growled, although it wasn’t as fierce as it usually was.

“I was just . . . I . . .” He trailed off, trying to think of a way to speak that wouldn’t set her off. “Is everything okay?”

She laughed, but it sounded forced. “Why wouldn’t it be?” she challenged. “I’m the real apprentice around here, after all.”

He didn’t ask what she meant, wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. With a victorious smirk, she faced the dummies again, twirling her keyblade in her hand as she waited for him to leave.

But he didn’t. “I’m sorry that I brought up Terra,” he said. “I shouldn’t have dug into your past like that.”

She said nothing, but he saw the tension build in her shoulders.

“I won’t do it again,” he promised. “I’m really sorry”

“You should be sorry,” she said. He waited for more, but it appeared that she had nothing more to give.

“I just . . .” He drew a hand down his face. “I was just wanted to do something nice for you.”

The tip of her keyblade fell to the ground. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you keep doing that?” She spun around, eyes blazing. “Why are you always so nice? Is this just leading up to another one of Xehanort’s lessons?”

“I don’t . . .”

Her strides swallowed up the distance between them, bringing them close enough that she was able to thrust a finger into his chest. “If this is some kind of game to you, I swear . . .”

He looked up at her, the back of his eyes staring to burn. “I just want to be friends,” he said brokenly.

In the pale light of the moon, he could see that she was shaking. “Stop doing this to me; stop trying to make me care.”

“Why don’t you want to?” he asked.

He could see her lips moving, her throat tightening as she swallowed. Yet she appeared unable to force the words out. They faced off in silence, the air between them thick with pain and misery, until Aqua broke the standoff and fled.

She came back later around midnight, when Ven was in his bed, wide-awake. He stared at her; she stared at him.

In a small voice, she said, “Did Terra really say that?”


	4. Often Go Awry

_The two of them, neither much older than ten, were huddled in their sleeping bags, casting suspicious looks at the shadows outside their tent. An orange light lit up the side to the right where Master Eraqus sat outside, meditating alone by the campfire. Without a word, Terra crawled over to the tent’s opening, checking to make sure that their Master really was there and they were safe._

_“He’s still there,” Terra said, retreating to the warmth of his sleeping bag._

_“You’re trying to change the subject!” Aqua accused._

_“No, I’m not! I said yes, didn’t I?”_

_“But do you swear?” Aqua asked. “Do you pinkie-swear?”_

_There was no hesitation before Terra locked his pinkie with hers. “I pinkie-swear. Friends forever,” he vowed._

Aqua woke up. For the next ten minutes, she laid awake and stared at the ceiling.

* * *

It was just her and Xehanort right now. Ventus was still sleeping, though no doubt she would have to wake him soon. Even after all this time, the boy would still sleep in until the afternoon if allowed – and it took effort to rouse him. Sometimes, she just wanted to set his hair on fire and see if that worked.

But for now, she submerged herself in the silent company of her Master. Xehanort was seated at the table sipping some tea, while Aqua waited impatiently, her meal long since finished. She knew very well that it was useless to find something else to do (Xehanort would begin training soon), but she was growing bored, and Xehanort hated small talk. So, to occupy herself, she summoned her keyblade and made a show of polishing it with her sleeve.

Xehanort cleared his throat. “Aqua.”

She glanced up to see that Rainfell had nearly knocked Xehanort’s plate off the table. _As if it would be a waste_ , she thought snidely. Xehanort ate so little that it actually caught her off-guard when he did. She wondered if he somehow drew energy from the darkness instead.

“I’m sure it will taste the same whether it’s covered in dirt or not,” she said.

“You will have to judge that,” Xehanort replied without missing a beat, “because you will be eating it, my apprentice.”

“Oh, come on!” she exclaimed, bringing back to life what was a constant argument between the two of them. “You know that I’m ready to take that stupid exam.”

“But Terra is not,” Xehanort reminded her.

She stiffened. Normally, the mention of Terra was enough to make her lapse into a sullen silence. However, in wake of her dream and what she had learned from Ven last night, she was able to soothe her hurt long enough to keep talking. “Why is it that you want me to take the exam with him? We both know that he’ll look terrible in comparison to me.” In a lower voice, she added, “Is that the plan?”

Xehanort’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you want to know?”

She blinked, taken aback. Xehanort had never held back his plans from her before. Unwilling to admit her surprise, she covered it up with arrogance. “Because if I have to wait to get what’s rightfully mine, I should at least know why.”

It was hard to say if Xehanort would answer. No matter how much she had a right to know, she knew that he simply didn’t care. But whatever plan he had in mind didn’t require that much secrecy, as Xehanort put his cup of tea down and said, “It is required to fuel Terra’s darkness. I alone could probably wake it, but having you there will be an excellent backup.”

“Fuel Terra’s darkness,” she repeated. “Are you doing that just to screw with Eraqus?”

“A heart opened to darkness is one more receptive to my possession.”

Possession? At first, Aqua was at a loss to explain what that meant. Was Xehanort trying to take Terra away from Eraqus too? Was Terra going to come train with her? Normally, the idea would have her burning the place down in a rage, but if she was honest with herself, all this hate – hate for Terra, hate for Eraqus, hate for Ventus and even occasionally, hate for Xehanort – was wearing.  She and Ventus had stayed up for a long time discussing his visit with Terra, and dealing with her conflicting emotions then had drained her. With as little sleep as she had gotten after that, she really didn’t have the energy to muster up the righteous anger she usually had.

But why would Xehanort want yet another apprentice?

And then it all clicked into place.

“ _He’s_ your new body!” she blurted out.

“Indeed,” Xehanort said. “He is young, strong, and attuned to the darkness. He will serve my purposes well.”

Something akin to horror threatened to choke her. Terra? _Terra?_ Xehanort had chosen Terra? How long ago had this decision been made, she wondered, how long had Xehanort been eyeing him?

_Not that it matters_ , she reminded herself gruffly. Terra had _betrayed_ her; she didn’t care for him, wouldn’t care for him. It made no difference if Xehanort planned to kill him.

She stood and left, hoping that Xehanort had seen none of the conflict in her mind.

She found herself drawn to Ventus’ room for some illogical reason. She stood in the hallway, staring through the open door at his sleeping form. What had her feet been thinking? This was stupid; he wasn’t going to do anything but annoy her.

She turned on her heel, intent on putting this silly thing behind her, when a sleepy voice asked, “Aqua?”

Too late to run, then. Ventus was rubbing his eyes when she faced him, the boy blinking furiously before saying, “Is it time to get up?”

“If you’re up now, you might as well get out of bed.”

“Okay, thanks!” He flashed her one of his wide grins, and it only made anger curdle in her stomach. How could he do that: smile all the time? It was unnatural, that’s what it was. No one should be that cheerful, especially when they were treated the way Ventus was.

She stood there, an unidentifiable emotion filling her. How could he got to be so happy?

She marched away. This really had been stupid.

* * *

Her keyblade rippling with fire, she lunged at Ventus who dove out of the way. The younger boy tucked into a ball, rolling across his shoulders before springing back up to his feet, looking pleased with himself. But as fancy as his dodge was, it took him too much time to gather his bearings afterwards, and she closed the distance between them. A quick Blizzard had him rooted to the spot and then, with her Master’s approval, she slammed her keyblade into his chest.

She swore something cracked. Ventus’ mouth opened in a mute cry and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. Startled, she backed up, giving him room to breathe; she hadn’t meant to kill the kid. He hunched over like a rag doll, a low, feral sound coming from his chest.

And when he raised his head again, his eyes were gold.

She grinned wickedly _. Finally, time to see what he can really do._

She had never been able to hit Ventus as hard as she could, but now, with the darkness bolstering his strength, she could let loose. She locked eyes with his gold ones, bringing her keyblade down hard.

. . . Only for those eyes to fade back to blue.

She changed her course just in time, and Rainfell impaled the sand instead.

“Enough!” Xehanort barked. He glowered at Ventus, who sheepishly kicked at the ground. “Get out of my sight – both of you!”

They did as he ordered, metaphorical tails between their legs. “Why did you do that, idiot?” she snarled when Xehanort was out of sight.

Ventus looked like he was trying really hard not to snap at her. Too bad for him.

She continued. “Now the Master’s mad at us. Nice going.”

His hard blue eyes looked up at her. “Do you know why he wants me to use the darkness?”

“To make you stronger,” she lied smoothly.

He shook his head, as if he had just asked what two plus two was and she had answered one. “What if I don’t want that power?”

He was kidding, right? He must have been. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“Aqua, I’ve seen what my darkness is capable of.” His eyes grew distant as he visited old memories. “I want to become a keyblade Master to help people, not hurt them. You understand, right?”

“I . . .”

_“We’ll be the best heroes ever!” a tiny Terra declared, waving his keyblade around like a drunk pirate._

_She crossed her keyblade with his. “Uh huh, there won’t be any bad guys who can defeat us!”_

“Aqua, what are you going to do when you become a Master?”

She shrugged. “Whatever Xehanort tells me to do.”

“But you’ll be a Master . . .” Ventus seemed to realize that this current chain of conversation would get him nowhere, and switched onto a different track. “Then let me ask: what do you _want_ to do? What do you want?”

She just stared at him. Once upon a time, she could have answered that in a second; but that had been long ago, before she had embraced reality and realized that the life her younger self had imagined was no more than a fairy-tale.

Once upon a time, she had wanted nothing more than to be a hero with Terra.

Now, she had nothing.

* * *

Ever since she had learned who Xehanort’s host was going to be, something uncomfortable had settled between them. _I hate Terra,_ she chanted in her mind, _it doesn’t matter to me what happens to him._

_Why should I care about him when he doesn’t care about me?_

But despite the dozens of time she chanted that, she still couldn’t help but ask, “Master, couldn’t you find someone other than Terra?”

They were currently walking the streets of the Enchanted Dominion, Xehanort having visited the witch, Maleficent, in hopes of striking an alliance. From what she could tell, his goal had been accomplished, but in name only. If Maleficent was anything like her Master, then they had to be careful not to have a knife plunged into their back.

“Why would I?” Xehanort asked.

“Because it’s . . . it’s Terra!” she said, shuddering.

He smirked. “It will be strange, yes, and hard to take orders from one with the body that you despise, but in time, you will see that it is only me. The entity that you know as ‘Terra’ will cease to be.”

Okay, that was better. It was true that the thought of _Terra_ ordering her around made her want to rip her hair out. She just had to remind herself that it wouldn’t actually be Terra. Once Xehanort took over his body, he would no longer exist. For all extents and purposes, Terra would be dead.

That’s how she wanted it, right?

* * *

She watched as Ventus carefully examined his ice-cream stick, squinting as he held it up to the sun. They had found a place on the old clock tower in Twilight Town, high above the rooftops where they almost seemed to be on par with the sun. She had finished her ice-cream and as the stick was being held loosely in her hand, Ventus snatched it from her.

“What are you doing?” she asked flatly.

Ventus grinned. “Sometimes, if you’re really lucky, you get a stick with ‘Winner’ on it.”

“Great. Fantastic. What do you do with it?”

It appeared that question had never occurred to him. “I don’t know.”

She rolled her eyes and leaned back against the tower.

“Aw, come on, Aqua!” Ventus tugged at her sleeve. “It’s like a lottery.”

“I don’t like leaving things up to fate.” Her fists clenched at the last word. After fate had screwed her over so badly, she held no warm feelings for it.

“Suit yourself.” He checked her stick, tossing it over the edge with a sigh when it failed to be lucky.

The two of them stared at the motionless sun, watching as clouds passed over it. Here in Twilight Town, the sun never set. It must have been weird for the residents, but to her, it was nice not to be chased out of a world by nightfall. Of course, the downside was that time seemed to pass quicker than it should.

“Have you ever thought about what it would be like to live here?” Ventus asked.

“Nope,” she said.

He glanced sideways at her. “Can’t you work with me?”

“Nope.”

He smiled. “Yeah, okay. You know, I could be your apprentice when you become a Master.”

She laughed. “As if Xehanort would allow that. Besides, I’m sure I’ll be sticking around.”

Ventus batted his eyelashes, his eyes growing huge. “For me?”

She scowled. “Don’t be ridiculous, Ven.”

He grunted. There was silence for another minute or so before he suddenly sat up, weaving his hands together. Hesitatingly, he began. “I was being serious. Once you become a Master, the two of us could just . . . leave. We wouldn’t have to live under Master Xehanort anymore.”

“Leave?” she echoed. Her senses heightened as her muscles tensed, feeling danger in this conversation. “Why would we do that?”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Ventus asked, and his voice was much too loud. “All he does is abuse us! I don’t understand how you can put up with it.”

“He’s our Master . . .” she protested.

“That doesn’t mean he has the right to treat us as he does!” Ven argued. “When’s the last time you’ve had a training session that didn’t have to be stopped halfway through so that you could heal a broken bone?”

Her throat ran dry as panic threatened to overwhelm her. Why was he saying this? “He trains us like that to make us stronger,” she said stonily.

“How many times did he have to tell you that before you believed him?”

It was too hot here, too crowded. She felt like she was going to teeter off the edge of the tower. “Shut up,” she growled.

“No, I –”

“I said _shut up!_ ” She grabbed him and threw him halfway off the tower before she realized what she was doing. Her blood icy cold, she hurriedly pulled him back to safety. He ended up on his back, with her hovering above his chest. His reaction wasn’t angry as she thought it would be, just pained.

“Why him?” he whispered.

It took some time for her breathing to slow so that she could answer. “He’s the only thing I have.”

“What about me?”

She looked at Ven, really looked at him, something warm making itself known inside her.

But she grabbed that part of her and stomped it into dust. She was Master Xehanort’s _only_ apprentice. Ventus was a tool, nothing more than a pawn meant to be sacrificed in a greater plan. And once he had played his part, he would be tossed aside with the rest of the trash.

“What about you?” she said.

* * *

She sighed impatiently as Xehanort continued to interrogate her. “I’ve told you,” she said, “he doesn’t want to use his darkness to hurt people. He’s convinced that he’s going to be a big hero or something. If he survives that long.”

“In a way, he will be a hero,” Xehanort said. “He will be the key that opens the door to a new world.”

“Yay, Kingdom Hearts,” she cheered in a monotone. “And then what?”

“Then comes the Keyblade War.” Xehanort’s eyes got that glassy look to them, like those of a priest who was hearing the voice of their god. Even though the graveyard before them was empty, he smiled as if those keyblades were held in battling hands rather than uselessly sitting in the sand. “Then the destruction of everything known, and finally, the rebirth.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Directed by you, of course.”

He smirked. “With the power of Kingdom Hearts on my side, I will rebuild this universe in my image.”

“And we rule the universe forever. Hip, hip, hooray.”

“ _I_ will rule forever,” he corrected sharply.

She shouldn’t have expected anything different, but it still hurt to hear him say that. Xehanort glanced sideways at her face, blinked, then hastened to say, “And you will serve as my foremost lieutenant, the highest honour.”

She smiled. It was the first time that he had ever given an indication that he intended for her to still be there in the end.

This plan, this future, was everything she needed, and with Xehanort pulling the strings, she would be sure to get it.

( _So why did part of her still feel miserable?_ )

* * *

Xehanort watched Ventus greedily, waiting for that spark of power that would signal the X-Blade’s arrival. Alas, at this rate, it would never come. The boy stubbornly insisted on using his light, refusing to do anything more than allow his darkness to peek out.

He had thought that the string of defeats at Aqua’s hands would feed that dark fire inside Ventus, but instead, Ventus only seemed to be suppressing it further. Even with the knowledge bestowed upon him by his other apprentice, Xehanort was unable to turn this to his advantage. What use was a warrior that refused to hurt others?

_A necessary one_ , he thought to some dismay. This current path would not do.

He stroked his chin. Clearly, fear and power were not achieving the desired results. Instead, it made Ventus go in the opposite direction from that which he wanted. Therefore, it was reasonable to say that the opposite of his previous efforts may achieve his goals. That meant affection. He groaned inwardly; it was exhausting enough to keep Aqua adoring him.

“Well done, Ventus,” he said to the boy’s obvious shock. “It will not be long until you can journey to worlds by yourself.”

“Uh, thanks, Master.” Xehanort was delighted to see that Ventus was shyly pleased.

He decided not to end it there. “I will admit,” he said, walking past his stunned apprentice, “that I had my doubts during the beginning of your apprenticeship, but you have certainly improved since then. You, truly, are the greatest of my apprentices. Perhaps, someday, you will be as strong as I.”

He smiled. “I am very lucky to have you, Ventus.”

In his mind, he saw flashes of similar words spoken to a little girl. He reached out, his smile warm and uncharacteristic, seeking to bring Ventus under his spell as he had done to Aqua so long ago.

But Ventus shoved his arm away, and staggered back. His glare filled with fury, he hissed, “I’m not Aqua. I’m not falling for it.”

Ventus stormed away, and Xehanort was left to try and figure out what went wrong.

* * *

How could he have miscalculated? How was it that Ventus had figured out his intentions so easily? How could he have missed how much the boy had changed?

All of these questions and more ran through Xehanort’s mind as he sat alone at the table. He raised a cup of tea to his lips, scowling when his noticed his hand trembling slightly. It was one misstep. _One_. There was no need to be so upset over it.

But he was. Ventus was _a child._ A child had figured out his schemes! Was he losing his touch? Had old age finally caught up to him?

_All the more reason to lay claim to a new body,_ he thought as he forced tea down his throat. Like always, the warm liquid calmed him, doused the fire of his inner turmoil. With that, he was able to think clearly again. So what if Ventus had ruined that plan? The boy was still under his power and had no idea what Xehanort truly had in mind for him. He smirked. It was as if Ventus had taken one of Xehanort’s pawns, but left his queen open in the process. In the grand scheme of things, Xehanort was still the victor.

A door slammed shut and moments later, Aqua and Ventus walked into the room. After the shock he had received from Ventus, Xehanort had ordered Aqua to train him for the day. He was disappointed to see that neither appeared grossly injured; in fact, though he was terribly sweaty, Ventus was smiling up at her.

That disturbed him.

“Aqua, remain here. I wish to speak to you.”

He purposely didn’t address Ventus, sending a silent message that the boy was not to be included in this conversation. Aqua caught on immediately, shooing Ventus away. For a brief moment, Ventus’ eyes locked with his. However, the standoff – if it could be truly considered one – was laughable.

“How are you finding Ventus?” Xehanort asked after the boy had departed.

Aqua shrugged carelessly. “Honestly, having Ven around is like having an annoying puppy that you can’t get rid of. “

_Ven_? He searched his mind, trying to count how many times he had heard that nickname in the past. That undercurrent of unease returned, once again associated with that brat’s name. How was it that Ventus kept inserting himself into all of his perfectly formulated plans? Aqua was not supposed to be feeling a kinship with the boy!

“If you kick a dog enough times,” Xehanort said, “it will leave you alone.”

“Or it’ll bite,” Aqua deadpanned. “Look, it’s fine. I’ve dealt with worse.”

“But why put yourself through this unnecessary bother? Spare yourself the trouble and tell him the truth.”

Aqua didn’t say anything, turning her gaze towards the ground. He saw his chance then and before it had even registered, he was on his feet and walking towards her. A simple touch on her shoulder brought her face up to his, and her eyes widened with surprise and nervousness as she tried to figure out what he would do next.

He locked eyes with her, knowing that she lacked the strength to look away.

“You don’t need him,” he said softly. “You never have.”

And just as he had known, Aqua didn’t look away. Her head tilted slightly to one side as she absorbed her Master’s words. The agreement fell out of her easily, as if she were in a hypnotic trance – and in a way, she was. Even as he watched, he could see the poison of her love for him corrupting her mind, twisting it until it became perfectly aligned with his.

He smiled, but it was not a smile directed at her. It was one meant for himself, a smile that stemmed from the understanding that Ventus was a fluke. Here was everything Xehanort needed to prove that he was still as sharp as ever. Aqua was the perfect specimen, or she would be if it wasn’t for the light that survived within her. For not the first time, he had the urge to force her to make those choices that would destroy what remained of her light – if only to prove that he could. But he swallowed it down. Now was not the time.

“Go,” he said. “I have nothing left to say.”

“Yes, Master!”

She ran off, her steps filled with new energy. Xehanort returned to his table and cup of tea, thinking. It was true that Aqua’s rapport with Ventus would probably lead to little harm, but he still did not like it. The thought of them enjoying each other’s company disgusted him.

It was not hard to figure out why. Even for him, it was impossible to spend almost a decade with another person without developing some sort of bond with them. But by no means did that mean that he felt for Aqua what she felt for him. His affection for her was not built upon trust or fondness, but possessiveness and control. He cared for her just as a dragon cared for its gold.

And like a dragon, he had no intentions of sharing.

* * *

There was a divide between Ventus and Xehanort, one that hadn’t been there before. Ventus was as jumpy as a cat around Xehanort, and always seemed to be listening for some underlying meaning in their Master’s words. Aqua would have been annoyed normally, but for whatever reason, this issue pried Xehanort’s focus away from his future X-Blade wielder.

She basked in his attention. Except for when they had first met in the Land of Departure, Xehanort had never had this much interest in her. Still, she took it without question, and on her Master’s suggestion and encouragement, shunned Ventus.

Now, Ventus was the one watching from the outside. Sometimes, when it was her with the Master, she’d see Ventus watching from a distance. His expression was always perplexing: sorrowful, but not quite sad. More like sympathetic. That confused her, because why should he feel sorry for her? She was the one receiving the praise that seemed to fall freely from her Master’s mouth these days.

And then, one day, everything changed.

Early in the morning, Xehanort pulled her out of training, telling her that he had an errand for her. It turned out to be a menial task, one that normally would have been given to Ventus if Xehanort wasn’t insisting on having another _private_ session with him. Still, she agreed without complaint, saving that for when Xehanort was safety out of earshot.

She returned shortly after nightfall, the items Xehanort had asked her to fetch stuffed in a sack. She slung the sack over her shoulder, and it wriggled against her back as some of Xehanort’s more sinister ingredients acted up (grabbing those had been the only tricky and fun part of the job). She had no idea what he planned to conjure this time, and she wasn’t too interested in knowing.

She stepped inside his office, figuring she’d just leave it on his desk for when he got back from training Ventus. The desk was nearly empty save for an inkwell with a quill, a stack of papers in one corner, and a piece of paper with writing on it in the center. She placed the sack next to the inkwell.

She was all ready to leave, when the sack moved and bumped against the stack of papers, knocking them to the ground. She paled, looking around nervously. She knew very well the consequences of disturbing her Master’s sanctuary.

. . . She was going to have to clean these up, wasn’t she? Sighing, she began to gather them up, moving quickly lest the Master would discover what had occurred. Her eye lazily scanned over the papers, picking up an odd phrase here or there. She didn’t really care for what the papers had to say, not really . . .

_Dear Aqua . . ._

The pile she had gathered up scattered again, so violent was her twitch. The paper she had just read, one with sloppy writing, fluttered to the ground, barely having time to rest before Aqua’s shaking hands snatched it up. Stepping into the moonlight coming through the window, she started to read.

_Dear Aqua,_

_About a week ago, I finally got to meet Master Yen Sid’s apprentice, Mickey. It was kind of a shock at first that he wasn’t human, but I guess seeing how many worlds there are, it had to happen eventually, right? Ha, I can see you shaking your head at me. Anyways, Mickey just happens to be the king of Disney Castle, if you’ve been there yet. Of course, seeing how far ahead you are, you’ve probably been everywhere by now. Just promise to take me (and Ven) on a tour someday!_

_About those questions you asked in your last letter . . ._

Last letter? What letter? She didn’t need to search her brain to know that she had never written any letters. Well, there had been a few in her early years, mostly to Terra, which Xehanort had sent for her, but she had never gotten an answer to them. There was no way she should be receiving a reply now.

She greedily read the rest, an almost physical hunger driving her onwards. When she reached the end, saw the words ‘ _Until next time, Terra_ ’, her mind shut down. How . . . what . . . why?

She shook the haze off. Terra had written her a letter? Why now? Did Ven have something to do with this?

Words from long ago came to her.

_“Then why are you guys exchanging letters?”_

Not caring about the mess she had made of his papers, or what would happen to her if she was caught, she collapsed in Xehanort’s chair. She placed Terra’s letter on the desk, smoothing out the crinkles. Letters, with an s. Plural. If Ven was being honest, then there were others out there.

An animalistic rage took over her, making her hands curl into claws as she glowered at everything in the room. Had Xehanort misplaced them? Were there more of those letters – more of _her_ letters – in here somewhere?

She surrendered to the primal part of her, and tore apart the room in search. Each minute that ticked by without a find made her more anxious, more desperate for answers.

And finally, in a secret drawer below Xehanort’s desk, her answer came in the form of a folder labeled: _Xehanort Reports_.

* * *

She was in her room alone, head buried in her pillow as tears forced their way out of her eyes. The words of what she had just learned haunted her, pounding against her brain like a hammer seeking to break it in half.

She sniffed, and sucked in a huge breath, only to break into sobs again. From the beginning, from the very damn beginning, it had all been a lie. Every word that had come out of Xehanort’s mouth had been a lie. Now that she knew the extent of his schemes, she cursed herself for not seeing it earlier. She had been too blind, too loyal, too devoted to her so-called Master.

_Eraqus_ , she wondered, _why couldn’t you see what was happening?_

But she couldn’t blame him, not really, not when she hadn’t figured it out either.

She curled into a ball, crying harder. Before, she had only Xehanort. Now, she had nothing. Her ties with Terra and Eraqus had been broken long ago, even if the former still thought he was writing her (it was Xehanort writing those letters back to him, she had learned, and it sickened her to speculate what sort of things he and Terra had chatted about). She had purposely ruined any chances of a friendship with Ventus, just to please her Master. And Xehanort, oh, Xehanort . . .

She couldn’t even be angry with him. In a way, she deserved this, didn’t she? She must have, or else why would this keep happening to her? Even more sickening, deep within her, she could still sense her love for her Master, because although he was false, he, the future he offered, was still everything to her.

Because the truth was that it wasn’t worth fighting him. If she were to call Xehanort out and reveal his treachery, it would earn her nothing more than a swift death - and Aqua was too selfish to die. She had nothing, no one.

She was ready to give up and stop fighting; stop thinking and merely obey. Maybe, in time, if she stayed with him, Xehanort would grow to care about her too. Maybe then she wouldn’t be alone . . .

Underneath her pillow, her hand brushed against the edge of an envelope.

She wiped the tears from her eyes in order to see. She pulled out the envelope, seeing her name written in childish script on the outside. Gingerly, she ripped it open and reached inside.

Her fingers found a wooden ice-cream stick. ‘Winner’ was carved into its side.

Silence filled the room.

Maybe she wasn’t alone after all.

* * *

Xehanort smiled as his latest plan came to a close. Ventus was in front of Xehanort, his eyes rolling up in his head as he collapsed, Xehanort’s keyblade still stuck in his chest. Nearby, the twitchy black creature that embodied the boy’s darkness stared around in confusion. He looked very much like a neoshadow, although his form held a shadow of Ventus’ spikey hair and he was a bit bulkier and human-looking. The creature’s head snapped around to face his fallen other half and with a sound much like that of a puppy’s whine, he reached out a clawed hand.

“Empty creature,” Xehanort said, drawing the darkness’ attention, “to you I give the name Vanitas.”

Vanitas’ yellow eyes brightened, as if naming him had granted him intelligence. Vanitas’ head cocked to one side as he stared over Xehanort’s shoulder.

“V-Ven?”

What was she doing here? Had her errand been completed already? Xehanort turned and tore his keyblade out of Ventus’ heart. “Aqua, meet my newest apprentice, Vanitas.”

Vanitas stared at her almost sadly.

“Now,” Xehanort said, turning to the creature of darkness, “Vanitas, I command . . .”

He stopped midsentence, eyes wide,

Never had he expected to feel a keyblade in his gut.

A moment passed, and then Aqua pulled her keyblade out of his body in the same way that he had retrieved his from Ventus. Xehanort stumbled forwards, holding his side, healing magic washing over him on instinct. The wound closed, and he held his hand away from his body, staring at the blood that stained it. How . . . how dare she?

 It was time for her pathetic life to end.

He lunged. Expecting the attack, Aqua successfully blocked, but even that did more damage to her than it did him. From experience, they both knew that he was the strongest, the fastest of the two. Even if Aqua managed to fend off all his blows, it would weaken her so much that he would be able to kill her with ease.

From the side, he charged again, thrust his dark keyblade towards her heart -

. . . only to pull back at the last moment when Vanitas leapt between them.

Growling, Vanitas backed towards the girl, arms spread wide as if to shield her from view. The shadows around his claws had stilled and solidified, so that they gleamed like knives. Through this all, not a single emotion flickered across Aqua’s face, even as she pointed her keyblade at and cast a spell.

Her raw skill was no match for Xehanort, but he was greatly handicapped. Vanitas, Ventus’ darkness, vital to him and not an option to destroy, kept interfering. Vanitas would dive in the way whenever Aqua retreated, covering her weak spots, and would claw at Xehanort whenever he got too close. At some point, the dark creature learned how to call forth a keyblade of its own, and then it joined Aqua on the attack. Still, Xehanort knew he was the best of them all.

His opening came and with one swing, he took them both down. Vanitas, though very weak, recovered and lunged like an animal, only for Xehanort to grab him by the neck and toss him aside. Aqua was on the ground, groaning as she tried to force herself up.

“You foolish girl,” he growled. His keyblade flared black. “You knew that you could not defeat me! Better you had accepted your fate as my servant than have chosen to die like this. Know this, my apprentice,” he dropped the pitch of his voice, “I will show Eraqus and Terra this wound in my side, and I will tell them that I was forced to slay you in self-defence. You will die alone, friendless as you deserve, and no one will ever know the truth of what really happened to you.”

Xehanort raised his keyblade high, savouring his victory.

But he had made one mistake.

So engrossed in the fight as he had been, he forgot that there was a fourth player in their game.

Ventus swung, and his keyblade tore down Xehanort’s back and straight through his thigh. Xehanort shouted in pain, guard slipping, and Aqua saw the opportunity . . .

Next thing he knew, he was on the ground in unbelievable pain with three figures looming above him. Ventus was shaking, looking quite pale and Vanitas pressed close to his side, his longing to be whole clear in his eyes. Aqua stared down at her fallen mentor, grief, rage and a collection of other emotions written on her face. The air around her was a mix of black and purple, stained by the dark mist rising from her.

Aqua, Eraqus’ magical prodigy, the girl with a heart full of light, had finally given into the darkness.

It was the last thought he ever had.

* * *

She couldn’t remember much after Xehanort had passed on. Time had been a series of blurry memories, beginning with Ven and Vanitas’ efforts to heal her wounds, and ending with a landing on a world that seemed strangely familiar. From therefore, she was aware of only colours and sensations; the world had turned into a patchwork of distorted shape and voices, which seemed to grow and wane in accordance to her heartbeat.

And one day, she was able to understand what she heard. Her eyelids were too heavy for her to open them, but her ears were functioning. She heard breathing, her own, but also some that did not match up with hers. Occasionally, there was the creaking of wood or the scratching of nails against flesh. Somewhere in the distance, steps echoed through a hall.

Touch came to her next. She was warm on all fronts, although there was a slight breeze that tickled her nose. Something soft cushioned her head and back, and a weight, though a light one, covered her body. Her fingers curled and the soft material below them gave way, but only for a little bit.

She laid there for what might have been hours, until she regained the strength to truly wake. Then slowly, her eyes opened. Light shone into them, making her squint. Weakly, she raised a hand to protect them.

“Aqua?”

She knew that voice. “V-Ven?” she choked out. Her head lolled to the side, her vision struggling to focus on her fellow apprentice.

He was seated in a chair, hunched over as to be eyelevel with her. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

Before she could answer, another voice, one she didn’t recognize, said, “I’m going to get the Master.”

Master? Xehanort was still alive! She tried to sit up, only for a powerful spike of pain to go through her head. She moaned, cradling her aching head in her hands.

“Yeah,” she heard Ven say, “I should have warned you. Xehanort really did a lot of damage to you. To us.”

Through her fingers, she glared at him. It was then that she noticed that they were not alone. In the corner, couched on top of a dresser, sat the shadowy creature she knew as Vanitas. He watched her with doleful yellow eyes, claws brushing against the wood upon which he sat.

“Vanitas . . .”

Ven shifted uncomfortably. “He’s the darkness from my heart. When I refused to use the darkness to fight the neoshadows, Xehanort decided to rip him out of me.” Ven shivered. “Eraqus said that he would help us find a way to be one again.”

“Eraqus?”

“Yeah.” He looked at her sympathetically. “Your injuries were bad enough that we couldn’t heal you, so we took you to the Land of Departure instead. That’s where we are right now.”

In a quiet voice, he added, “This was your old room.”

She immediately looked around, her eyes landing on the soft blue walls, and the picture of a younger her, Terra and Eraqus on a desk. It looked exactly as it did when she had left, and she was surprised the bed was still able to fit her now.

“Yes, this time I’m sure she’s awake, Master.”

There was that strange voice again. Aqua peeked at the doorway, waiting to see who else had been waiting for her to wake.

So used she was to the short stature of Ven, Vanitas and Xehanort’s slouch, that she aimed her sights too low and ended up staring at a chest instead of a face. A big, muscular chest too; the muscles were visible even through his clothes. It set off the alarm bells her in mind, and she fought hard not to summon Rainfell in response to this potential threat.

_Don’t show fear_. She was weak, barely able to sit up as it was, but she let none of that show on her face. She schooled it into a mask of indifference, clamping down on her natural arrogance until she had time to evaluate the situation. Her gaze moved upwards, past the armoured shoulders and up the tanned neck . . .

She gasped as she met Terra’s cobalt eyes.

This was Terra? Before, they had been around the same height, but she could see that presently, he would tower over her. He had grown into his body and the muscles which seemed awkwardly huge before now appeared normal. His chin was sharp and defined, the roundness of his cheeks had faded, and for all intents, he was a man. Yet it was still a boyish smile he gave her even as he stepped into the room.

“Long time no see,” he said gently.

She looked at him, at a loss of how to respond.

Her attention was directed to the door again. Eraqus walked through and despite the years that had passed, he looked exactly the same. The oddness of it almost convinced her that she was dreaming again.

“It is good to see you awake, Aqua,” Eraqus said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. It almost seemed like he was fighting not to cry. “If the rest of you could leave us . . .”

They did so without question, Terra casting a backwards glance at her.

The door clicked shut, and an uneasy silence set over them. Her fingers itched with the need to summon Rainfell, if only to add some excitement to the room.

“Aqua,” Eraqus moaned, reaching for her, “my child . . .”

She swatted his hand away with a vicious glare. She wasn’t _his_ apprentice _,_ she wasn’t anyone’s apprentice! Eraqus looked hurt by her action, and the reaction made her smile.

“Aqua, what happened to you?” This time, there definitely were tears in his eyes.

“Why do you care?” she sneered. As far as she was concerned, Eraqus had shipped her off to the enemy. She didn’t care if he had ‘good intentions’ or whatever he wanted to call it; if it wasn’t for him, none of this would have happened. She would still be here, with him and Terra, and this would still be her room.

He shook his head sadly. “I thought Xehanort had changed. If I had known . . . Oh, if I had known.  . .”

“Save it,” she told him. “I don’t care for your apologies.”

She rolled over in bed, facing the wall and refusing to speak. Eraqus stuck around for a little while longer, but eventually, she heard him sigh and the door opened and shut again.

Alone at last.

Maybe, for her, it was meant to be this way.

* * *

It wasn’t uncommon for her to be alone in her room with Ventus and Vanitas (the latter seemed to follow Ventus around wherever he went). Being alone with Terra, however, was much more unusual. She stayed curled in bed while Terra sat in a corner, neither sure how to break the ice. Honestly, Aqua would have rather faced the Terra who had betrayed her, and not the Terra Who-She-Thought-Had-Betrayed-Her-But-Actually-Didn’t. It roused feelings of guilt inside her that she really did not appreciate, and she dragged her nails against the bed’s wooden frame just to blow off some steam.

“So,” Terra said, “Ven says that you claim I never wrote to you.”

She felt his eyes boring into the back of her head. “You were exchanging letters with Xehanort,” she said listlessly. “I never even saw them.”

She expected rage, denial and sorrow; she did not expect his relieved sigh. “Good to know I’m not crazy,” he said

She turned her head, staring at him incredulously. “You _knew_?”

“I had my suspicions after I received the first letter, and I knew for certain by the third. They sounded like you wrote them, but it wasn’t _you_. There was something missing,” he said, looking at a loss of how to explain. “Master didn’t believe me.”

“What a surprise,” she said flatly. She laid her head down again with a wry smirk.

“He honestly thought he was doing the best thing,” Terra said. “Don’t think that he didn’t care about you.”

“I don’t want to talk about him,” she growled.

“Then what do you want to talk about?”

She thought about it for a second. “If you knew it wasn’t me, why did you keep writing?”

He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. “After Eraqus visited, you and Xehanort disappeared. The letters, even if they weren’t written by you, were the only things I had left. I always had hoped that you somehow saw them, that either you wrote the replies with Xehanort watching over your shoulder, or you snuck into his office to read them.” He smiled crookedly at her. “Which, I guess, you did. I just wish it didn’t turn out this badly.”

“You shouldn’t have kept writing. It was stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid!” Terra was on his feet now, looking angry. “I had to! I had to prove that I never forgot you, even if it was only to myself in the end.”

She looked up at him, her face pained. “Xehanort said that you didn’t want to come with Eraqus to visit me. “

He spoke so quietly that it might have been her imagination. “Did you believe him?”

“Yes.”

She had crushed him with that one word. Terra turned away from her, pacing across the small room, fingers combing through his hair. His face, when she saw it again, was absolutely devastated, and she was left feeling very small.

He took a seat on her bed and she opened her mouth to order him off, only to close it again.

“I never forgave myself for letting Xehanort take you away,” he murmured. “Never. I begged the Master to let me go with him to see you, but he refused. I never did find out why.” He sighed, and his fingers brushed against the top of her knuckles. “There were times, after I learned to summon my glider, where I ran away looking for you, or else abandoned my mission to chase after someone I swore was you. I never stopped praying that someday, we would find each other on some distant world.”

They looked at each other, and in that moment, time seemed to rewind. They were no longer adults burdened by time and regret, but two young children making promises in the dark.

_"You swear? Do you pinkie-swear?”_

_"I swear. Friends forever.”_

“I never stopped caring,” Terra whispered. The small bit of space between them crackled. She did nothing as his hands slid up her arms to her shoulders, pulling her in close.

And he held her tightly in his arms as the lies crumbled around them.

* * *

  **End**  


* * *

 


End file.
